


I Want Help

by Blue_Victoria



Series: I Want Out [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Warnings will be put in Author Note's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:38:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 59,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7079314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Victoria/pseuds/Blue_Victoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime Hinata has been living a peaceful life in Hawaii with Nagito Komaeda for three years now. Three years of being away from the organisation.<br/>But when a face from the past shows up at his home, they threaten to ruin his wonderful life.<br/>He is adamant about not getting involved again...<br/>But then he learns Nagito Komaeda's life is in danger.<br/>~<br/>The Sequel to 'I Want Out'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"How's the novel coming along?" Hajime asked, laying on his stomach next to his fiancé. Nagito turns and smiles at him; his glasses lopsided. Hajime laughs slightly and straightens them out. "Have you been sleeping?" Hajime already knows the answer to that question, the many key indents on his face tell him this.

"I have writers block," Nagito responded, his voice hoarse. Yep, he's been sleeping. Hajime places his hands on his shoulders, and slowly massages his neck and shoulder blades. Nagito tilts his back, sighing. His fiancé works too hard.

What happened was: Hajime was browsing through some files on Nagito's laptop, looking for some holiday pictures of when they went to Disneyland, and he came across a file named 'Novel'. Curious, he clicked on it and started reading it. It was a story about an assassin falling in love with someone he shouldn't. After reading the fourth chapter, he told Nagito he found it. Nagito simply said he started writing it when he was nineteen, shortly after meeting him. Hajime told him to send it off to publishers, it was a brilliant piece of work. And after some convincing, he did, and landed a publishing deal. It became a best seller after a year, so now: he’s writing a sequel. He's about chapter six- but can't find any motivation.

"You just need some sleep," Hajime said, "Save your work and come to bed. I'll even give you a massage," he added. Nagito smiles and saves his work; closing the laptop. There are times Hajime wishes he hadn't pushed Nagito to send his manuscript off, because he gets stressed easily; but overall it's been an amazing opportunity for him. Neither of them work, as they have too much money as it is -more than they know what to do with- so it's nice for Nagito to just write when he feels motivated. Hajime makes sure that his editor and publisher don't harass him- they'll get the first couple of chapters when Nagito is satisfied with them. He won't have them stressing him out.

"Thank you," Nagito said, crawling up the bed and sliding inside the covers.

"What for?" Hajime asked, joining him. He wraps his arms around him, taking one of his hands. Nagito laces their fingers together and smiles; his lightly freckled cheeks dimpling.

"For convincing me to send my novel off," he replied. "Even though the demand for the sequel is getting me down a bit... I'm glad I did it. It's been amazing," he said, smiling in contentment. "Seeing so many people loving my story... sending me artwork based on it, and seeing blogs dedicated to it... I never thought people would love it so much."

"I knew they would. Don't the 'ship wars' scare you though?" Hajime said, making him laugh. "Seriously... These fans are so passionate about their 'OTP's' or whatever the heck they call them. It’s frightening." Nagito laughs hysterically and taps Hajime’s chest playfully. Hajime watches him, laughing along. Nagito's laugher is contagious, so is his smiling- whenever he smiles, Hajime has to smile. He can't help it.

"I know," Nagito said, his laughter subsiding. "I never thought they'd like it so much..."

"They like it so much because you're amazing, and everything you _do_ is amazing."

"I am not amazing..." Nagito muttered, running his thumb over the silver diamond incrusted band on his left ring finger. Hajime tilts his head up, meeting his large beautiful eyes.

"Yes you are," Hajime insisted. Nagito raises an eyebrow and pokes Hajime's chest with a finger. Hajime knows what's coming...

"I tried to kill you," Nagito said. "Three times." Hajime rolls his eyes in response. "How does that make me a'mazing'?"

"Because you didn't kill me in the end, and: I love you... and they say love is blind so..." Nagito lets out a short, disbelieving laugh and hits his chest again. Hajime grins and nuzzles his neck, making him giggle.

"Hajime!" Nagito laughed. Hajime climbs atop him, continuing to kiss his soft skin. Despite his protests, Nagito tilts his head back and holds him against himself. It's both adorable _and_ inviting. "How about that massage?" Hajime said, leaning back. "Unless you want to continue this..." Nagito smiles widely, and chews on his bottom lip; Hajime watches with a knowing smile.

"I'll have the massage please!" Nagito chimed. Hajime laughs and climbs off of him.

"Okay, your majesty." Nagito giggles and rolls over, allowing Hajime access to his back.

Right before they were going to move to Hawaii, Hajime had told Nagito the truth about who he was and what he's done. He couldn't keep it a secret from him any longer. He wanted a new start and he couldn't do that without his _life_ knowing the truth. Nagito had listened and not spoken until Hajime had finished speaking. It confused him, how Nagito was not freaked out- or disgusted by him. He expected Nagito to walk out and never come back. He expected him to ring the police for good measure. But he simply nodded once in a while, and held Hajime's hand; running a thumb over his knuckles reassuringly.

Hajime had asked him why he wasn't freaking out and packing his bags. It turns out, he worked for an organisation similar to Hajime's. He explained, that when he was fourteen, someone came to him and asked him to join their organisation; saying that 'revenge _is_ justified'. So he joined. Hajime has never been more surprised in his entire life. How didn't he know? How didn't he work it out?

Nagito also told him that he was assigned to assassinate him. The first day they met, Nagito had intended to poison him with his coffee, but tripped; resulting in the poison being dumped on him instead. After the coffee was all over him, Hajime's caring nature towards him threw him off. He said he expected Hajime to react differently to the way he did; he found it hard to picture him as a _cold blooded murderer_.

The next time, he was lucky Hajime left his coffee on the table untouched. Otherwise he would've been dead.

The third time, he planned on killing him after their first date. That's why he came home with Hajime; he planned to manipulate his trust and kill him in his sleep. But he had overheard Hajime on the phone to Togami, about wanting to leave the organisation in order to keep him safe. This shed light on Nagito’s situation, resulting in his own defiance to leave too.

After learning this, Hajime had never been so surprised and... how did Nagito manage to outsmart him? He was more annoyed Nagito had stolen his heart and made him fall in love with him, -not knowing who he was- than he was learning he tried to kill him. _Three times_.

Learning the truth didn't change how they felt, and it didn't affect their relationship either. They told each other how many people they had killed, and ruined the lives of. They used each other to come to terms with what they've done, and they help one another with their nightmares. They also promised to never keep anything from the other again. In a way, Hajime's glad Nagito had been assigned to kill him. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have felt the need to know and understand them; unlike he did with Nagito.

He'd be dead had Nagito not fell in love with him too.

Nagito’s lungs feel like they're going to explode, and his legs are burning. He feels like his blood is going to burst from his fingers, and the sweat dripping down his face is scorching him. He heaves in a loud groan and grabs Hajime's arm, stopping his fiancé from running any further along the beach.

"Stop!" Nagito gasped, leaning his hands on his knees and breathing deeply. "I feel... like... I'm gonna... die," he panted, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

"We've... only been... running... for... five miles," Hajime panted quickly. Nagito straightens up and groans loudly, how can he say that? _Only five miles_. It feels like a lifetime to Nagito. When they hit the three mile mark, he generally thought he was going to die.

"This... is not... healthy," he grunted.

"Nagito," Hajime breathed, rubbing Nagito’s arm slightly. "I agree with... the majority of... what you say... but... this: I can't," he half laughed. Nagito breathes in deeply, and then releases. He feels like he's going to give birth. Not that he knows what giving birth feels like, but he's pretty sure this feeling is close to it; and his fiancé is not being helpful at all.

"Can we take... a break," he sighed. Nagito goes to sit down onto the sand, but collapses onto his back. He throws an arm over his eyes to block the sun. He hears Hajime snigger slightly, before feeling him lay down next to him. If he wasn't feeling so exhausted, Nagito would've laughed as well.

"The tide is coming in," Hajime said, his breathing only slightly ragged. "We'll get soaked if we lay here." Nagito rolls onto his side and opens his eyes. He feels his heart miss a beat as he takes in the sight of Hajime. His fiancé's tanned skin has darkened since moving to Hawaii, and his golden green eyes seem brighter and happier. His smile could warm Nagito even if he was freezing: the way his eyes crinkle, and the dimples that appear in his cheeks, make him feel like he's going to melt. His stomach is ripped and his legs and arms are strong and toned. Even though he appears slim, someone could punch him in the stomach and it wouldn't even hurt him. His stamina and strength is incredible as well. He often asks Nagito to lay on his back whilst he does press ups... Not to mention what he's like in bed... Nagito flushes red at even the memories of such times.

How did he get so damn lucky?

"Are you okay there?" Hajime asked, bringing him out of his trance. Nagito smiles sheepishly and buries his face against Hajime's arm; his bicep feeling stronger due to their run. "How about we run for three more miles, then we'll go back to the house." Nagito raises his head and rests his chin on Hajime's arm, looking at him with reluctant eyes. "For dinner I'll make us a salad, and for desert we'll have some of that fruit trifle that you made yesterday. I'll even throw in a foot massage." Nagito can't help the grin spreading across his face, Hajime can be awfully persuasive. "You'll thank me in the future," Hajime added.

"For making me run five hundred miles, five times a week?" Nagito replied sarcastically. Hajime smiles widely, his whole face lighting up, and freezing time over for Nagito.

"Yes," he laughed, standing up. Nagito trails his eyes up his tanned legs and strong torso, before locking eyes with him.

"Help me up and we have ourselves a deal," Nagito said, holding his hand out. Hajime's smile seems to widen somehow, as he takes Nagito's hand and pulls him to his feet effortlessly.

True to his word, Hajime made a salad for dinner and then served up some trifle. Nagito had watched, occasionally telling him what to do. Hajime simply thanked him for his input and did the opposite; which had Nagito giggling slightly when it backfired on him.

They're currently sitting on the couch in their living room. It's dark out now, but they haven't drawn the curtain across the floor to ceiling window, as Nagito finds the view of the sea incredible to look at. Since the sky is almost always clear, the stars and the moon reflect in the sea and he finds it such a satisfying sight to gaze at occasionally. Hajime often comments on the view as well, but always says that Nagito's expression is better to look at; which makes him blush a bright pink.

The lamps either end of the couch are turned on, giving the room a soft glow. It's a perfect reading light for Nagito, who is sitting with his back to the armrest, legs resting across Hajime's lap. He's reading aloud to his fiancé, who smiles as he listens; giving Nagito's feet a massage, one foot at a time, as promised.

Nagito can't comprehend how his life turned out like this. Three years ago, he was sad and afraid. Now he's unbelievably happy and scared of nothing. He sometimes gets too overwhelmed with happiness and breaks down, which Hajime is there to comfort him through. He just can't understand how any of it is possible. He's always afraid he's going to wake up from a beautiful dream and be faced with the harsh reality of his past being his present.

Bookmarking his page on the newest chapter, Nagito looks up from his book and looks at Hajime. His fiancé turns his head towards him and smiles a small, understanding smile. He knows Nagito is getting a bit overwhelmed again. He somehow always knows. Perhaps it was the way he was reading the last few sentences. Maybe something in his voice gave it away. Whatever it was, Hajime picked up on it. He lifts Nagito up into his lap; holding him close and curling up around him protectively. Nagito rests his head against his chest, feeling Hajime kiss the top his head softly.

No words are needed: just comfort. Hajime understands Nagito perfectly to know that reassuring words are not needed. Just the feel of his strong arms encircling him. The sound of his vigorous beating heart in his firm chest, is all Nagito needs to hear. His scent of sweet spices and freshly cut grass, comforts him immensely. Nagito's unsure of how that combination works, but it does and there is nothing that smells better to him.

Nagito closes his eyes and breathes out slowly, holding onto the fabric of Hajime's thin top. Nagito wouldn't mind staying like this for the remainder of his life, and he knows Hajime wouldn't either.

Three years it's taken to find Hajime. Three years. He did a good job at concealing where he went. Who would think of Hawaii as a place to flee to? Usually places like America and England are people's places to disappear to. But Hawaii. No, if it wasn't for his connections he never would have found him.

He heads up the smooth stone pathway, towards the large white bricked house. The house has large floor to ceiling windows and two balconies on the second floor. It's a beautiful home. He almost feels cruel walking up the pathway and circling the giant water fountain.

He ducks behind a rose bush, spotting Hajime and his partner in the living room. Slowly, he peers over the hedge and looks through the window. In doing so he sees something he's never seen before: Hajime _smiling_. He's not frowning. He was for sure in thinking that frowning was Hajime's natural facial expression, but seeing him smiling at his partner, his eyes alight, has changed his view on the latter.

His partner is, in one word, beautiful. He has fluffy looking white hair, which just brushes his shoulders; sun kissed pale white skin. He's long and slender and toned, judging by the look of his legs.

Snapping out his judgment, he watches as Hajime kisses his partners forehead and mutters something into his ear. His partner climbs off of him and watches as Hajime turns the lamps off and walks to the floor to ceiling window.

Concealed by the darkness, he ducks down a bit more and watches as Hajime draws the curtain across.

Slumping to the floor, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't want to ruin Hajime's life... He seems happy. He deserves to be happy... But it's not just _his_ life that's in danger...

Everyone's is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably be posting a chapter a week :') This fic is pretty much finished, so I'll be posting a chapter every week. So the next the chapter will be up on the 18th

Hajime awakes to a creak from downstairs. He blinks in the darkness, making out the outline of Nagito next to him. He tightens his hold around his middle, gently kissing the back of his head. His fiancé shifts in his sleep, rolling over and nuzzling into the crook of Hajime's neck. He smiles fondly, and puts a piece of his hair behind his ear.

Another creak makes him look towards their bedroom door. It’s closed, so the sound is slightly muffled; but Hajime's trained hearing can still detect the sound. He looks back to Nagito, seeing him still sleeping soundlessly. He carefully leans away from him, untangling their legs and removing his arm from around his stomach.

He slips out of bed, crouching down at the nightstand. He keeps his eyes trained on Nagito's sleeping face as he reaches underneath it, and removes the gun from the holster that's taped down on the other side of the table. He manages to do it silently, refraining from making any scraping noises. Nagito's breathing is still level and his face remains unchanged. He looks like an angel as he sleeps contently. Hajime only has to worry when a crease appears between his eyebrows, which means he's about to have a nightmare.

Hajime snaps his head back to the door of their bedroom, as another creak comes from downstairs. He rises from his crouched position and treads lightly to the door. Carefully, he pulls down on the handle, glancing over his shoulder as he opens the door slowly. Nagito remains the same.

Hoping Nagito remains asleep, Hajime slips through the gap he made and closes the door softly behind him.

Lightly walking down the hall, he holds the gun out in front of himself. It's probably nothing, but given his and Nagito's past, he's not taking any chances.

He presses his index finger to their libraries door, and opens it slowly. The door moves silently in the doorframe, taking away some of Hajime's nerves of waking his fiancé. He flips the switch on at the wall, and glances around the room. There is nowhere to hide in this room, the walls are book cases- except the window seat that Nagito often sits at to read. It overlooks the sea, something Hajime knows Nagito finds comforting. It reminds him that he's safe. That there is an entire ocean stopping people from getting to him.

Hajime turns the light out and backs out of the room.

He's about to check the study, when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, piques his attention from downstairs. He quickly and soundlessly moves across the thin cream carpet and glides down the marble staircase, that's split into two; which lead to different sides of the house. On one side is their bedroom and on-suite, the library and the dressing room. The other side has a gaming room, the study, a bathroom and two spare rooms- that Hajime has ideas for... But it'll take some convincing for Nagito to agree.

When he steps onto the ground floor he heads straight forward. In front of him are two glass doors that lead to the dining room. To his right is the kitchen and the living room is left. Behind the staircase is the conservatory. In the garden there is a pool, which flows into the house, connected to the gym.

Hajime walks into the dining room, turning the light on; a chandelier that hands above the table.

He blinks at the sudden light. His eyes land at the head of the table.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

Sitting in the chair, smiling slightly is Souda Kazuichi.

 

"Hello Hajime," Kazuichi greeted. Hajime keeps the gun trained on him, unflinching. "How're you? Been a while hasn't it... Three years." Hajime walks further into the dining room, stopping at the opposite end to Kazuichi.

"How did you find me?" he asked, his voice deep and hollow. Kazuichi leans against the table, and smiles proudly.

"Cool, right?"

" _How did you find me_?" Hajime repeated, more slowly and hostile; holding the gun up more surely. If Kazuichi found him, then who else knows where he is?

"Okay, okay," Kazuichi said, holding his hands up. "I asked Chihiro to print off the list of people who had left the country, in the timeframe from when you left the organisation, to when I found your flat empty. From there I went to each place these people moved to, until I found you."

"How did you get inside my house? I made those locks unbreakable," Hajime said. He spent ages making sure the locks on the doors and windows were impossible to pick, and not so easily broken.

"I noticed," Kazuichi sighed, rubbing his temples. "I used to be a mechanic. I know how everything works. Once I worked out how it operates I managed to break it." Hajime cannot believe this is happening. Why is a face from his past sitting at his dining table? A face he'd almost forgotten. As cruel as it is, he tried so hard to move past everything that happened; all the people he met and worked with. He never wanted to mentally see their faces again. And he hasn't. Almost for three years.

And now he can physically see one of them. Which is bringing back the others.

Something snaps in Hajime, and he finds himself struggling not to act on his sudden fury.

"Get out of my house," he said sternly, his voice strained with the need to shout; but is afraid of waking Nagito upstairs. "Get. Out."

"Hajime please-"

"Get out," Hajime repeated, gesturing to the hall with his gun. "I never want to see your face here again. Leave."

"Hajime, I need your help. We all do," Kazuichi pleaded. Hajime shakes his head and resists the urge to scream at him. Doesn't he get it? Hajime has a life. He has a beautiful life, with his beautiful fiancé. The love of his life, and it's been perfect. It's everything he used to dream about. Kazuichi being here is threatening that, and he won't stand for it. He'll die before something comes along and ruins it.

"Whatever it is: it's not my problem anymore," Hajime said, even if he does feel guilty acting so hostile towards his old _friend_. "It hasn't been my problem since I walked out that day. For three years it's not been my problem. Don't ruin this for me Souda. _Please_." His friend swallows and looks visibly conflicted.

"Hajime, there is something taking place that only we can stop," Kazuichi continued, making Hajime let out a frustrated breath. "Listen to me. This goes beyond anything that we stand for. Someone is planning to wipe out the existence of any organisation like ours. Only we can stop it. Everyone is in danger. You. Your partner-" Hajime tenses at that and feels rage seeping back into his being. No one would dare try and hurt Nagito. Not unless they were prepared for a slow and painful death. "Hajime, so many people are in danger. You need to help us. If you won't do it for me, do it for your partner."

"Who is this person?" Hajime asked, and Kazuichi's eyes brighten with hope. "This doesn't mean I'm going to help you," Hajime added, but the light in his eyes doesn't dim.

"We don't know. But they have been sending us anonymous letters and packages..." Kazuichi trails off and visibly shivers. It gives Hajime the impression that whatever was in those parcels wasn't good. "They found where one of the members of our organisation lived and... well... sent him to the Covert bit by bit..." Hajime swallows against the bile rising in his throat, and clenches his teeth. "The letters," Kazuichi continued, "contained threats of elimination of the whole organisation, and of any family or friends. Even though we don't speak to them anymore."

Images of Nagito flash across his mind. No one is going to touch him. No one. He vowed that he'd destroy anyone who dares hurt him, and he plans to keep that promise.

"Are you going to put that gun down?" Kazuichi suddenly said. Hajime draws his attention back to him. He meets his gaze, a sense of unease flowing through him. "Hajime it's me. I'm not going to do anything. I don't even have a weapon on me!" Hajime doesn't falter. He remains a strong hold on his gun, keeping it pointing directly at his old friend. "Hajime-" Kazuichi goes to stand, but something must have changed in Hajime's face as he slowly sits back down. "Dude, relax. I'm not going to do anything," he said slowly, sounding hurt; disbelief entering his voice.

"I can't take any chances. I'm sorry," Hajime said. Kazuichi nods, even if it's not a believing action.

"Are you going to help?" Kazuichi inquired. Hajime doesn't know. At the moment he's safe. Nagito's safe. If he goes back... Who knows what will happen.

"Hajime?" Nagito's soft voice filters through to him. Hajime tenses, but doesn't turn around. Kazuichi leans to the right slightly and it infuriates him. Who said he could look at him? He doesn't want Kazuichi knowing about Nagito, because if he does then it's like his associated with his past: which he's not. Nagito is separate, and Hajime wants to keep it that way.

"Hajime..." Nagito's voice falters. He feels him come up behind him. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice teetering on a demand. "Who are you?"

"I'm an old colleague and friend of Hajime's," Kazuichi responded. Hajime glances at Nagito, and sees him frowning.

"Some friend," Nagito commented. "He's holding a gun up to you."

"That is true..."

"Hajime, what's going on?" Nagito asked, looking at him worriedly. Hajime's about to respond when Kazuichi starts talking again.

"How did you manage to land such a good looking guy?" Kazuichi asked Hajime, glancing at Nagito. Hajime's nostrils flare and he drops the gun to the table and stalks towards him, ignoring Nagito's warning 'Hajime'. "Dude, I was joking. I wasn't checking him out or-" Hajime grabs him by the collar and yanks him out of his chair.

"I swear, say anything like that again and I'll rip your tongue out," Hajime seethed. Kazuichi pales and nods quickly.

"Hajime," Nagito sighed, and he hears footsteps coming towards him. "Must you always be so intimidating and protective? I'm sorry, he's done this before. Don't feel singled out," Nagito said reassuringly, placing a hand to Hajime's wrist. The touch relaxes him, and he slowly releases Kazuichi.

"It's cool," Kazuichi dismissed, straightening his collar out. Hajime wraps an arm around Nagito's shoulders and pulls him away from his old friend, walking them a few paces back. "We need to talk about the issue at hand," Kazuichi said, surprisingly formal. "These people I was telling you about, the ones that were sending us threats, well they sent us a letter. In that letter was a list of people they plan to wipe out."

"Who was on the list?" Hajime said, his voice dark. Kazuichi swallows and adverts his gaze; the face Hajime's pulling is probably unnerving for him. His _scary face_ , as Nagito would call it. " _Who was on the list_ ," he repeated thickly. Nagito places a hand to his chest and another around his back; like Hajime: he already knows.

Kazuichi closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, before replying. "Everyone who is a part of the organisation. Including you and Nagito Komaeda."


	3. Chapter 3

“Would you like something to eat?” Nagito asked, sitting down next to Hajime on the couch; curling around him. Hajime places an arm around him, not once breaking Kazuichi’s gaze- who is sitting on a separate couch.

“Yeah, please,” Kazuichi said, shifting uncomfortably under Hajime’s sharp stare. “I haven’t eaten since I bordered here. Which was six hours ago.”

“We have some fruit trifle.”

“No,” Hajime said. Kazuichi is not having any of Nagito’s homemade food. He may be coming across as possessive, but Kazuichi is a threat to their life. To Nagito. He’s not about to start feeding him homemade goods- which Nagito made. He’s not allowed to come and ruin their lives, eating trifle while he does.

“Hajime,” Nagito muttered quietly. “Don’t be mean… The guy hasn’t eaten…” Hajime blinks quickly, and forces himself to take his arm back from around Nagito.

“He can eat. But he can have something else,” Hajime said, and watches Nagito stand. “Just get something out of the cupboard.” His fiancé nods and wraps his cardigan around himself tightly, leaving the room. Hajime’s lips part and he suddenly feels sick. He used to hate it when Nagito did little actions like wrapping his arms, or his clothing, around himself tightly. He hasn’t seen Nagito act so self-preserved in a long time… Hajime turns his head and glares at Kazuichi. This is his fault.

“Dude, stop acting so hostile,” Kazuichi said. Not even a second after, his face contorts into fear and he added quickly, “I understand why you are though! But it’s me. I’m not going to hurt Komaeda.” Hajime flinches at him saying his fiancés name. Kazuichi must have picked up on it, as now he’s looking at him with sad and sympathetic eyes.

“What do you want me to do? What was your purpose of finding me?” Hajime asked irritated. What could possibly be so bad that Kazuichi spent three years tracking him down? Why can’t they sort it out themselves? Sure he’s on the list, but they might not even be able to find him and Nagito. And if they did, Hajime would die before they even laid their eyes on his lover.

“You’re involved in this,” Kazuichi said, sounding annoyed. “You may have been gone for three years- but that amount of time doesn’t change the fact you were a part of the organisation.”

Nagito walking back into the living room stops Hajime from responding. He walks over to Kazuichi and hands him a bowl of noodles. Hajime watches the exchange with intent eyes. Even though Kazuichi said he’s not going to do anything, Hajime still doesn’t trust the guy. He doesn’t trust anyone other than Nagito.

“Thanks for this,” Kazuichi said, picking up the fork resting inside the bowl. Nagito shrugs it off and walks back over to Hajime; sitting down cross-legged. Hajime automatically places a hand on his knee, and in turn Nagito places his delicate hand over his hand. It’s an automatic thing they’ve accustomed to over their time of being together. He hardly ever notices that they do things like that. They’re automatic responses. Things they don’t even think about.

“What are we going to do?” Nagito asked, and Hajime subconsciously squeezes his knee. Nagito laces their fingers together, and the sensation of his warm hand against his calms him in more ways than one. The cool feel of his engagement ring is also comforting, but it makes his gut twist in unease. Their wedding is in exactly two months: April 27th. Hajime booked it so Nagito would wake up the next day, on his birthday, ready to travel the world for their honeymoon: that only Hajime knows about. Nagito often says he wants to travel the world with Hajime- go places he never had the opportunity to go to, due to his past…

What if something happens and they don’t even reach their wedding day? Nagito has been planning their wedding day for months; making sure everything is perfect. Flowers, food, venue and outfits- they’ve decided to write their own vows, something Hajime has been worrying about. His fiancé sent out save the date cards to their friends in both Hawaii and Japan. Nagito has invited Sonia Nevermind and Aoi Asahina; the only two people who cared about him, before Hajime; they worked at the coffee shop with him. It’s only going to be a small wedding, which Nagito wants- he doesn’t want a massive celebration as he’d get too stressed. Besides, they don’t want a massive wedding, even if they had the friends and family to invite.

Nagito wants it to be perfect, and Hajime will be damned if his fiancé doesn’t get the wedding he’s been picturing in his head.

“You have to help us,” Kazuichi said, his voice tinged with desperation. “You’re a part of this Hajime. And so is Komaeda.” Hajime breathes in deeply at his sentence. If helping the organisation and eliminating the threat will keep Nagito safe: then he’ll help.

“Okay,” Hajime said, the word an effort; sandwiching Nagito’s hand between both of his. “We leave tomorrow.”

“Hajime, thank you,” Kazuichi said, bowing his head slightly.

“I’m not doing this for you or the organisation,” Hajime instantly said, making it clear that this has nothing to do with Kazuichi, or anyone else a part of the organisation. He’s doing this for himself and Nagito. For their life. The life they built themselves. Their amazing life that no one is going to destroy.

“I know,” Kazuichi replied, his eyes flicking towards Nagito’s hand that Hajime is holding protectively. “We’ve moved the Covert to France,” Kazuichi said, changing the course of the conversation. “To make it harder for them to find us.”

“We leave tomorrow then,” Hajime said, feeling Nagito squeeze his hand.

“There’s something else you need to know,” Kazuichi said hesitantly, his face cautious.

“What?”

“When you left, the task we were given went horribly wrong,” Kazuichi started saying, “None of the people we were assigned to assassinate actually died. It all happened so quickly I don’t even know _what happened_ \- but they caught us and got away.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” Nagito asked, voicing Hajime’s own thoughts.

Kazuichi raises his head and meets Hajime’s eyes. “We believe the people that are threatening us: are them.”

“What makes you believe that?” Hajime inquired, narrowing his eyes. Kazuichi puts a hand in his jacket pocket. Hajime tenses and reflectively holds a hand out. Kazuichi looks at him and shakes his head, pulling out a crumpled white envelope.

“I wasn’t going to pull a weapon out,” he said, standing up and handing the envelope to him. “God, Hajime; learn to trust me. Like I said I don’t even have a weapon on me,” he said, retreating to his seat; Hajime watches him sit back down. Once he has, he turns the envelope over in his hand, releasing Nagito’s hand and pulling the contents out. “That letter will explain why we think it’s them,” Kazuichi said as Hajime unfolds it; Nagito leaning close to read the contents.

Holding it in view of them both, Hajime processes the words written in scruffy handwriting,

_You bastards have no clue. Who do you think you are messing with us like that? You’ve tried to condemn the wrong people._

_We would of gone to prison, never seen our loved ones again, and once we were out –if we ever got out!- we’d be left to rot somewhere, with no life. No family, no friends._

_So we’re going to pull on you what you tried to do to us._

_We’re going to do everything that makes people awake from a nightmare- screaming._

_We’re going to destroy your lives._

Hajime’s hands shake with fury. These people have just threatened to kill Nagito, Hajime’s only loved one. They have no clue what’s coming for them. Not even the depths of Hell itself could comprehend what Hajime plans to do if they ever get within even a hundred mile radius of Nagito.

Who do they think _they_ are?

“Hajime,” Nagito’s calm gentle voice, coaxes him out of a downward spiral that leads to the wrath of Hell. He lets his fiancé pull him back out. He’ll save that fury for a later date. When he needs it.

“I’m okay,” Hajime assured, putting the letter back in its envelope. “I’m okay,” taking Nagito’s hands and looking into his grey-green eyes. Those eyes that manage to make everything better. “I’m okay,” he repeated, squeezing his soft hands. Nagito smiles a small fond smile, a smile that Hajime would burn the world down for.

“We’ll have to leave early,” Kazuichi said, shattering the silence to pieces. Pieces that slice at Hajime’s skin, making him feel all sorts of anger and fear. Fear and anger of the thoughts of something happen to Nagito. His wonderful Nagito. “I’ve already booked three tickets, first class to France.” Hajime looks away from Nagito’s eyes, and to Kazuichi. “I booked them so we had them, even if you didn’t agree to come.”

“We’re coming,” Nagito said, and Hajime tries his best not to wince. “It’s almost 2:30am, and I’d like to at least try and go back to sleep.” Nagito rises from the couch. Hajime releases one of his hands, but keeps a firm grip on the other; standing up with him.

“You can sleep in the spare room,” Hajime said, and he had to force himself to say it. He really wants Kazuichi to sleep on the floor in the conservatory- away from him and Nagito. But he knows Nagito will simply chide him and tell Kazuichi to sleep in the guest room.

“Yeah,” Nagito agreed. “I’ll get some spare clothing for you-”

“I have some clothes,” Kazuichi said, cutting Nagito off and infuriating Hajime. He could’ve waited until he’d finished speaking and then declined the offer politely. Not hearing Nagito out is one of the things that made him self-conscious about himself. Hajime has brought down every wall his lover had built, made him feel comfortable in his own skin, showed him he had nothing to be ashamed of. He’s not about to let someone make him start acting self-preserved again, putting himself down, not willingly speaking unless he has to. He wants none of that. Nagito is a beautiful and incredible person and no one is going to start making him feel any less.

“The spare room is the first room on the left as you go up the stairs,” Hajime said quickly. “You can settle yourself in. If you need a drink or something, there’s a tap in the bathroom at the end of the hall.” Hajime squeezes Nagito’s hand and starts making his way out of the living room.

 

Closing their bedroom door shut behind him, Hajime follows Nagito towards their bed. This is going to be the last time for a while that they’ll be staying in this bed. Safe.

“Hajime… Nothing bad is going to happen to us,” Nagito murmured, crawling under the covers. Hajime climbs under them as well, and opens his arms up, allowing Nagito to snuggle up against his chest.

“I won’t let it,” he vowed, wrapping his arms around his lover tightly as if to shield him from the very air itself. “I’ll condemn myself to death if it means keeping you safe.” Nagito clutches his top and shakes his head violently, his soft hair tickling the skin of his arm as he moves.

“Don’t say things like that,” Nagito protested. “I don’t want you to get hurt… I know the thought of me dying is awful to you… but how do think I feel? I love you Hajime, so much… The thought of you getting hurt is- is-” Nagito stumbles over his words, desperately trying to fill the gap with something that will explain how he feels.

“It’s okay,” Hajime said, running a hand through Nagito’s hair soothingly. “I understand...” and he does. He understands perfectly what Nagito is trying to say. The thought of losing Nagito is like a stab wound to his gut. A wound that has salt being rubbed into it. “Get some sleep now,” Hajime muttered, kissing the top his fiancé’s head, forcing the current thought from his mind. “We have to get up early to pack.”

“Okay…” Nagito murmured, sounding distant, like he’s already started to drift off to sleep. Hajime gently runs a hand up and down his back, an action that always relaxes him and helps him off to sleep.

~

“We’ll be back,” Hajime said, putting a hand on Nagito’s thigh. They’re sitting in the airport, rain hammering down outside, hitting the glass ceiling above and echoing around the practically empty airport. Kazuichi sits opposite, reading a magazine he bought with him for his travels.

“I know,” Nagito said, turning to Hajime and smiling reassuringly. He places a hand over his fiancé’s. Feeling his hand on his thigh is calming and the warm hand of Hajime’s underneath his is relaxing. Nagito always feels safe knowing Hajime is there, always watching over him. It does worry him sometimes. He knows Hajime would do anything to protect him, to make sure he’s safe; to make sure no harm comes his way… And even though Nagito doesn’t show it as openly as Hajime, if someone was to harm his lover: Nagito would unleash his own training and wipe them off the face of the earth.

“Hey! Check this out guys,” Kazuichi said, breaking Nagito out of his thoughts. He looks across and sees Kazuichi holding the magazine open on a page that explicitly shows a photograph of a young female model in a bikini. “You don’t really see things like this back home!” Nagito stares at him absently, not understanding why he’s getting so excited over a magazine. Kazuichi’s smile fades and recognition flashes across his face. “Oh yeah,” he said, drawing the magazine to his chest protectively. “You don’t care about things like that…” he grumbles something else but Nagito doesn’t catch it.

“The only person I get excited about when their half-naked is Nagito,” Hajime said. Nagito whips his head around, his face and ears burning.

“H-Hajime!” he exclaimed. His fiancé laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides, dimples appearing in his cheeks; it almost makes what he said OK. Almost. “I can’t believe you said that,” Nagito said, shaking his head in disbelief; although he’d be lying if he said he minded…

“You love it,” he muttered into his ear, making heat burn in his cheeks again. _Honestly, we’re in public! Even if the airport is deserted_. Nagito turns his head to the side, towards Hajime’s face: accidently pressing their lips together. Hajime makes a sound of surprise and feels his mouth stretch into a grin against his. He didn’t realise his face was so close, _I walked right into that one_. But despite being in the airport, Nagito feels himself melting into the kiss; squeezing Hajime’s hand.

“Get a room!” Kazuichi exclaimed, making Nagito pull away startled. He ducks his head, his cheeks flushed pink. Him and Hajime have never given a second thought when doing things like that, he’d forgotten for the duration of Hajime’s lips against his, that Kazuichi was even there: that the situation they were in even existed.

“Says the person reading a porn magazine in public,” Hajime commented, bringing a smile to Nagito’s face; his blush finally settling down. “I’ve had to endure you pulling faces like a creep, in the corner of my eye, for the past half an hour.” Nagito nods in agreement, Kazuichi’s expressions _have_ been disturbing.

“ _Sor-ry_! But so would you if you were looking at this!” Kazuichi said loudly, holding his magazine up on a picture of two supermodels –one male, one female- holding chains. “Or maybe if Nagito was posing like this,” Kazuichi corrected. Nagito feels his neck burn, slowly going towards his face and covering his ears.

“ _Wh-What_?” he exclaimed absurd. “D-don’t say things like that!” He looks at Hajime for help, but his fiancé is frowning thoughtfully, lighting touching his chin with his hand, that’s not resting on Nagito’s thigh. “Hajime! Stop whatever it is you’re thinking!” Nagito said helplessly, watching as Hajime’s face cracks into an amused smile. _God, help me_.

 

Woken from a restless nap, Nagito opens his eyes groggily. The first thing that comes into focus is Kazuichi standing up, picking his duffel bag up from the floor. Nagito feels his heart start beating erratically in his chest. They have to board now.

“Nagito baby.” Hajime’s voice finds his ears –somehow- over the thumping of his own heartbeat. “It’s time to board,” he said. Nagito lifts his head from his fiancé’s shoulder, looking around the airport. The few people that were in the airport with them are no longer seated. They’re making their way towards security.

“Come on then,” Kazuichi said, nodding his head in the direction everyone else is going. “You can sleep on the plane.” Nagito’s palms go clammy, and his breathing becomes slightly shallow; not enough to become noticeable to other people though.

“Do you want me to carry your bag?” Hajime asked, drawing Nagito’s attention to the duffel bag by his feet. His tanned hand picks it up, along with his own. “Hey, Nagito, are you alright?” Hajime said, frowning in concern. Nagito wipes some sweat from his forehead and stands from his seat; rubbing his clammy hands on his chinos.

“I’m fine,” he said, his mouth going dry and throat feeling like it’s closing up. “I’m just a bit warm…” he added, rubbing at the back of his neck, which has gone damp.

“Okay, it should be cooler on the plane,” Hajime said. “We’ll put the aircon’ on.” Nagito nods, the words processing but not actually sinking in.

He follows Kazuichi and Hajime towards security, staying close to Hajime. His feet feel heavy, like he’s having to drag them across the floor. His stomach is twisting around violently in his stomach and everything is going so fast- every action, every sound, every passing second. He can’t keep up.

“Passports please,” the officer at the desk said. Hajime hands over his and Nagito’s passports, Kazuichi adding his to the pile. Nagito fans his face with his hand, he feels like the sun is shining directly onto his skin, but that’s impossible: it’s pouring with rain; not one speck of sunlight in sight.

“Are you feeling alright, sir?” the officer asked. Nagito nods at his questioning gaze.

“I’m not feeling too good actually,” Nagito admitted, making a concerned line form between Hajime’s eyebrows. “I’m sure I’ll be fine once on the plane.”

“Nagito.” Hajime reaches for him, leading him away from the desk. “Is everything OK? Do you feel sick?” Nagito shakes his head, the room spinning- if it wasn’t for Hajime holding his arm he would’ve toppled over.

They head towards baggage check, and Nagito’s heartbeat manages to get faster. He’s breathing is becoming wild now. His throat is closing up, his lungs won’t allow any oxygen in. He breathes in quick, not getting any air.

“I can’t breathe,” he said quickly, panicked. Hajime turns to him, his eyes worried and face bordering on distress. “I- Can’t- Breathe-” Nagito hyperventilated, his chest rising and falling quickly, black dots appearing in his vision.

“Nagito focus on me,” Hajime said, dropping their bags and holding onto the tops of his arms. Nagito’s uneasy eyes meet Hajime’s vexed pair. “You’re having a panic attack. Breathe with me,” he said. Nagito does what he’s told and copies Hajime’s breathing, quick in-takes of breaths and short releases. Nagito’s eyes start watering and they’re soon streaming with tears.

“Don’t take- me- on the p-plane,” Nagito said hurriedly, his breathing making it hard to form a coherent sentence. Hajime’s face twists into pain and anguish, the expression makes Nagito’s tears and breathing come faster; he has to go on the plane. That’s what Hajime is telling him through the look. _I have to go on the plane_.

“Guys, we’re next,” Kazuichi said. Nagito looks past Hajime and sees Kazuichi placing their bags on the luggage counter. His eyes lock on the keyring of him and Hajime in Disneyland. He watches it disappear, his lip trembling, and nose and eyes stinging.

“Sir, walk through the metal detector please.” An officer gestures to Hajime to walk through the large arc.

“Nagito, we have to go,” Hajime said, squeezing his arms. “I’m _so sorry_ baby, we have to do this,” he breathed, drawing Nagito over to the metal detector. Hajime releases Nagito and turns him around. Nagito’s not sure whether it’s his own teary eyes, but Hajime seems to have water forming in corner of his as he looks at him. “You go through first, I’ll be right behind you.” Nagito shakes his head, grabbing Hajime’s arm and balling his top up into his fist. He doesn’t remember being like this when they went to Disney. “Nagito, you have to let me go. We can’t go through together. I’m right behind you, you can watch me come through after,” Hajime said, rubbing Nagito’s arms. He feels tension leaving his body at the touch, but when he turns and steps through the detector, it comes back.

He turns around watches Hajime come through, immediately coming to his side.

“Excuse me, I need to check you.” An officer appears in front of Nagito, looking at him. Nagito feels himself pale and shakes his head violently. “Sir, are you refusing to cooperate?” Kazuichi waves at them, catching Nagito’s attention. “Sir,” the officer said impatiently.

“N-no!” Nagito exclaimed. He doesn’t want some stranger touching him! Feeling his legs and arms and- whatever else he wants to touch!

Nagito bends at the waist, his breathing becoming ragged. Images from his past flash across his mind; his eyes filling with tears. _No… no… no… no…_

“It was his ring that went off,” Hajime said, rubbing his back soothingly. Nagito looks up quickly, all the blood rushing to his head. His knees buckle and his legs turn to water; his vision being invaded by black and white splotches.

“I still need to check him.” Is the last thing he hears before his vision goes black and he collapses to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on the 25th  
> Please comment on my writing, don't be afraid to criticise either. The only way to improve my writing, is to know what to improve.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Vague mention of rape.

Opening his eyes slowly, Nagito awakes. His eyes rest on Hajime, his honey green eyes looking at him with relief. He flicks his eyes around him, wherever he is it’s quite dark. The only light is a soft orange glow from above.

“Hey.” Hajime’s deep but soft voice, focuses his attention back on the brunette. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, bringing a hand up and gently rubbing his cheek with a knuckle. Nagito realises that his fiancé is lying on his side, next to him. Nagito goes to sit up, but Hajime’s gentle hand pushes him back down. “You need to rest,” he said to Nagito’s questioning look. “You had a panic attack. A bad one at that.”

“Where am I, Hajime?” Nagito asked, panic leaking into his voice. Hajime rubs his arm soothingly.

“You’re on the plane,” he answered, and Nagito feels his heartbeat speed up. “Don’t worry Nagito. I promise you now: nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.” That’s not what Nagito’s worried about. He’s scared something will happen to Hajime.

“Where’s Kazuichi?”

“He’s asleep in the chair next to me,” Hajime replied. “They wasn’t going to let us on the plane because you passed out, but Kazuichi convinced them somehow… I don’t know what he said, I was too busy worrying about you to care. Are you okay?” he asked quickly, his sentences following one after another without a break. Nagito nods, and takes Hajime’s hand that’s on his arm and squeezes it.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, looking at their hands. He runs a thumb back and forth over Hajime’s knuckles, trying to stop himself from thinking about something dreadful happening to him…

“Almost two hours,” he answered. Nagito nods, his eyes flickering up to meet his. “You frightened the life out of me passing out like that,” Hajime said gravely, his face full of anguish. Nagito feels his heart wrench in his chest at the sight.

“I’m sorry…” he murmured, bringing Hajime’s hand to his face and pressing it against his mouth.

“Don’t apologise. It’s not your fault,” Hajime said. “Now, get some more sleep. When you wake up I doubt we’ll have much longer on the plane,” he added. Nagito nods, and shifts in his seat. He notices that the arm rest has been put up, allowing him more room to move around. He turns onto his other side, releasing Hajime’s hand.

“Can you rub my back?” Nagito asked, looking over his shoulder. Hajime smiles slightly and nods, putting one arm around him and gently rubbing his back with the other. Nagito looks away and rests his head back on his seat, closing his eyes. He breathes in a slow deep breath and sighs it out, relaxing against the touch of his fiancé rubbing his back soothingly. This action calms Nagito so much, he can’t sleep without him doing it beforehand. Well, he can, but his sleep will be restless and full of nightmares.

Nagito drifts in and out of consciousness, sensing Hajime’s hand slowly rubbing his back reassuringly, before falling into sleep completely.

~

When Nagito had woken up again, they had roughly three more hours on the plane. Three painful hours of Nagito trying not to lapse back into another panic attack.

After the flight, Kazuichi had suggested that they went to the Covert. Apparently that’s where everyone on the list is staying- except for Togami and his partner. According to Kazuichi: Togami’s partner doesn’t know about his _job_. Nagito doesn’t find that hard to believe… He suspects if they ever found out they wouldn’t be as welcoming as Nagito was when Hajime told him.

“We’re here,” Kazuichi said. Nagito and Hajime follow him out of the taxi. “I’ll get our stuff.” Nagito looks at the large building. From the outside the Covert looks like a normal office building… But he knows it’s not on the inside. The building is grey bricked, with windows scattered around. The doors are automatic, and he presumes there are lifts in order to get to the top floors. Lifts that the people who work there don’t use. If it’s anything like Nagito’s organisation, they wouldn’t ever use a lift- a lift is an easy way to be cornered and murdered.

“Ready?” Kazuichi said, reappearing with their duffel bags. Hajime takes them before Nagito can hold out a shaky hand.

“Let’s go and get this over with,” he muttered. Nagito takes Hajime’s arm, squeezing his firm bicep. “It’ll be fine Nagito.” Nagito nods, even though he doesn’t fully believe that reassuring statement.

 

They walked the stairs to the fifth floor. That’s where all the rooms are that people are staying in.

After dropping their bags off to their small room, Nagito took Hajime’s hand and they went down to the fourth floor to meet everyone. Something Nagito is not looking forward to…

“Hajime, Togami wants to speak to you,” Kazuichi said before they entered the main room of the Covert. Kazuichi glances at Nagito and added, “Alone.” Hajime tightens his hold on Nagito’s hand and follows Kazuichi to the door of Togami’s office.

“Stay outside here, I won’t be long,” Hajime said, giving Nagito’s shoulders a squeeze. Nagito nods and closes his eyes when Hajime’s lips brush against his forehead. Hajime turns to Kazuichi and sends him a pointed look. “Watch over him.”

“Of course,” Kazuichi said. Before Nagito could protest and say he can look after himself, Hajime had gone inside Togami’s office.

 

Hajime breathes in deeply, putting aside his worry for leaving Nagito alone. As suspicious as he was of Kazuichi, when the guy first turned up, he does trust him. He’s never had a reason not to. He walks further into Togami’s office. The tall blonde hasn’t changed much. Despite being the head of the organisation he’s only a year older than Hajime himself. It does pique his interest, how did he become so successful at such a young age?

“Hajime,” Togami said, his voice as stern as always. At his side is Kirigiri, her face stoic. Exactly how he remembers them both.

“What are we going to do?” Hajime asked, walking to stand by the desk. He’s not going to sit down though. He no longer works for Togami anymore. He can’t be told what to do, and he has no problem telling the guy what’s what- not that he cared even when he did work for him.

“That’s why I wanted to speak to you. We are going to wait for their next move- then we will see,” Togami replied. Hajime feels a surge of anger at his response. He slams his hands down onto the desk, but keeps his voice low as he speaks.

“ _Wait_? These people have threatened to kill me and my fiancé. I’m not going to sit around here and wait for them to do so,” Hajime seethed angrily. He would shout but he doesn’t want to alert Nagito. “You have a partner. Are you really going to endanger them even more by not doing _anything_?” Anger flashes across Togami’s face, and when Hajime worked for him it used to unnerve him. But he doesn’t anymore. Hajime’s not afraid of him. He’s not afraid of anyone anymore.

“You keep my partner out of this,” Togami said sternly. “What I’m doing to ensure their safety has _nothing_ to do with you. In regards to acting on the threats, what do you propose we do? We have no idea where these people are-” Hajime straightens up, folding his arms across his chest and clenching his jaw. “We don’t know how serious their threats are. We have nowhere to start.” Hajime adverts his gaze, biting the inside of his mouth. He knows Togami is right. But he hates the idea of doing _nothing_. Every minute they waste not doing anything, is another minute wasted of catching them… He sighs, rubbing his face. He knows there is nothing they can do- for now.

“You and your partner will be safe here,” Kirigiri said, her first contribution. “The security here is impeccable. Until we have more information, you can rest easily.” Hajime lets out a bitter laugh at that. Yeah, he’s likely to _rest easily_ when there is an overhanging threat to Nagito.

“Don’t be reckless,” Togami said sternly. Hajime ignores him and turns on his heel.

“I will do everything in my power to keep my partner safe. Even if that means I’ll die doing so,” Hajime said, pausing at the door. “I don’t work for you anymore. You have no right to tell me what to do. The only way I’ll be able to protect him is if I’m _reckless_ , as you put it.”

Hajime opens the office door and steps out.

He doesn’t have time to ponder on his conversation, as a commotion near him catches his attention.

Kuzuryuu is in the hallway, yelling something at Kazuichi. Just as Hajime takes a step forward, Kuzuryuu launches himself at Nagito and pins him against the wall; gripping fistfuls of his top.

Hajime’s heart beats wildly in his chest, his teeth clenching tightly together. His eyes fill with red mist and he can’t feel anything other than fury. He’s covered the distance between him and them quicker than his wild mind can comprehend.

He shoves Kuzuryuu flying, the blonde guy falling onto his back and heaving air into his lungs. Hajime towers over him, staring down at him with dark eyes- a deathly silence falling over the room. Kuzuryuu pales and he slowly and carefully scoots across the floor.

“You even look in his direction again and _I’ll rip your throat out_ ,” Hajime vowed, his voice heavy with wrath; his hands shaking with pure fury. How _dare_ he even go near Nagito.

“Hajime, it’s okay,” Nagito’s soft voice brings him back. He feels a familiar hand touch his, and he suddenly feels relaxed again. He turns to him, searching his face and looking at his neck.

“Are you okay?” Hajime asked, lightly holding his shoulders. Nagito nods.

“He didn’t know who I was and was worried I was someone who shouldn’t of been here,” Nagito said. The reminder of what just occurred almost sends Hajime into a frenzy. “Can you blame him? With all the threats they’ve been given?” Nagito muttered. Hajime closes his eyes and releases a tight breath knowing he’s right. That’s still no excuse for the way he manhandled Nagito- even the thought of it makes Hajime want to pummel Kuzuryuu.

“Yeah… I know,” Hajime said, pulling Nagito against himself and into a tight embrace. The feel of his slim body pressed against his is so comforting and momentarily takes him away. The way Nagito’s hands always clutch his back tightly, like he’s afraid he’ll disappear, always makes Hajime want to squeeze him and never let go.

“Why don’t we all get some sleep,” Kazuichi said, breaking the silence. Hajime and Nagito release one another, quite reluctantly, and nod in agreement. “It’s late now, and we’ve been travelling all day. I’m sure I’m not speaking for myself when I say we’re tired.”

“Hajime?” A light hesitant voice filters the hall. Hajime turns to the sound of his name and sees Fujisaki standing nearby, her eyes wide with recognition.

“Fujisaki,” Hajime said, giving her a slight smile. Another person enters the hall, slightly taller than he remembers, is Pekoyama.

“You’re back,” Pekoyama stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Kuzuryuu appears at her side, looking wearily at him. Hajime almost glares at him, and judging by the aversion of his eyes: he did. Oops.

“Sort of,” Hajime said eventually. He takes Nagito’s hand and glances at him. His fiancé looks slightly uncomfortable. “This is Nagito Komaeda,” Hajime said, looking back to his old colleagues.

“The reason you left,” Pekoyama said. Hajime takes in a breath and nods. “Nice to meet you Komaeda. I’m Peko Pekoyama, this is Chihiro Fujisaki and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu.”

“Hello,” Nagito said, nodding at them. After that, silence stretches across the room. Hajime wants to leave, but he feels like if he does the world will end; the atmosphere is so tense, like everyone is waiting for something to happen.

“Well this has been awkward,” Kazuichi said, making it OK to breathe again. “I’m tired though. See ya’ in the morning,” he said, waving at everyone awkwardly and then jogging away hastily. Seeing an easy escape, Hajime tugs on Nagito’s hand and gives everyone a slight smile.

“Yeah. So are we,” he said, pulling himself and Nagito out of the situation- literally. He speed walks down the hall, Nagito trailing behind him.

 

After getting out of that awful situation, that Hajime dragged him out of, Nagito went and had a shower. The panic attack in the airport had him sweating, and he feels dirty in his travel clothing.

The water is luke warm and the shower head rattles and stops working completely sometimes…

Nagito turns it off, stepping out and wrapping a towel around himself- feeling the soft fabric against his skin. He sinks to his knees and allows a choked sob to escape his lips. He wants to go home so badly… What he wouldn’t give to be at home… To be wrapped up on the sofa in Hajime’s arms, or lying in their bed tangled together- Hajime soothingly rubbing Nagito’s back, making him feel safe…

Nagito hardens his tears. He dries his face against the towel and stands up, quickly towel drying the rest of his body. He will be going home. They both will. Nagito would rather die than not ever be able to go back home. And he needs to stay strong. If he breaks down then they can’t go home- because Nagito will be useless. He needs to remain strong.

He glances at his pyjama’s –checked bottoms and a grey top- and then looks at his robe. It’s a silk forest green. It’s for when the nights are warm but not warm enough to be in just his pyjama’s. He drops the towel from around himself and picks the robe up, feeling the fabric. The feeling of it reminds him of home… Hawaii, and the warmth it offers.

He slides his arms into it and pulls it around himself; tying it loosely so it’s easy to slide off. He glances at himself in the floor to ceiling mirror. He can’t remember the last time he looked at himself properly. He’s never felt any need to, Hajime always says to him that’s he’s beautiful- so he doesn’t think he needs to look at himself. Not when someone looks at him already… That and he doesn’t like it. It’s like looking at a stranger. He’s so different on the outside to what he’s like on the inside…

He stares at himself. His legs are slim and toned, due to the frequent runs. The robe stops just above his knees, covering his thighs, which are also slim and toned. His stomach is toned as well, he’s not ripped like Hajime but his stomach is defined by muscle. He trails his eyes to his face, his grey-green eyes staring back at him. His once deathly pale skin, is now glowing. He suspects that’s because of the weather in Hawaii… and because of Hajime. He never used to eat much before meeting him… he never saw it as a priority…

Overall he looks healthy.

He takes a brush from the counter and runs it through his hair, untangling it easily due to the conditioner he now uses on it. He takes a hairband and scoops his hair up, tying it into a high pony tail. Hajime likes his hair tied up like this… He always plants little kisses to his neck and jawline when he has it up. Something that reduces Nagito to a giggling mess, and Hajime knows this- partly why he does it, Nagito suspects. Not that he’s complaining, he loves it.

Placing a hand to his chest, he opens the top of his robe slightly, revealing his collarbones. A place Hajime loves to kiss and nibble at when they make love. Nagito finds himself unable to supress any moans and gasps when he does that.

With one more glance in the mirror, Nagito exits the bathroom, turning the light off. When he enters the other room, he sees Hajime just placing their now empty duffel bags under the bed. He looks up, his eyes trailing over Nagito’s body, before meeting his eyes.

“Alright?” he asked, walking over to him. Nagito nods, meeting him halfway so they’re standing a metre away from the bed. He glances at the king sized bed, wondering how soft the mattress is. “Nagito, are you OK?” Hajime said, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nagito assured, meeting his eyes. Satisfied, Hajime releases his arms and turns his eyes to the bed.

“The mattress is pretty lumpy, so I put a spare cover on it for us to lay on-” Nagito silences him by placing their mouths together. Hajime makes a surprised noise, satisfying him. He brings his hands up and places them around his neck, kissing him slowly. Hajime kisses him back, igniting him.

“Clothes,” Nagito murmured, sliding his fingers into the neck of Hajime’s top. Hajime draws back, holding his waist loosely, his thumbs rubbing his hipbones through the fabric of his robe.

“Not that I mind, Nagito,” Hajime said. “But are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Stop worrying,” Nagito muttered, and presses himself against Hajime. He’s not going to let what’s happened break him. He may have been weak before, but no more. Never again.

Pressing back against Nagito’s body, Hajime brings his top over his head. Nagito immediately runs his fingers over his back, feeling his strong muscles. He reconnects their mouths, the kiss sensual and feeling. Their lips move slowly, tongues gliding around each other’s mouths equally. Nagito sighs in contentment, rubbing his hips against Hajime’s slightly, the friction slow- making Nagito’s body tingle.

Hajime slides his hands up Nagito’s robe, cupping the backs of his thighs. Nagito gasps, his mouth parting wider and eyes opening. Hajime picks him up, and Nagito wraps his legs around his waist, locking at the ankles. Hajime walks him over to the bed and lays him down, moving to his neck and kissing it slowly. Nagito breathes in deeply, arcing his body into Hajime’s and letting out a pleasure filled moan.

Nagito reluctantly unlocks his legs from around Hajime and runs his hands from his back to his waistline. He unbuttons his jeans and unzips them, sliding them off of his hips.

Moaning in surprise and desire, Nagito arches his back. Hajime has upped his game; kissing at his collarbones and moving his hips against his; rubbing his hard groin against Nagito’s. Nagito’s eyes roll up, and he’s finding it hard to breathe.

Hajime slowly trails a hand up his leg, past his knee and up his thigh. Goosebumps prickle Nagito’s skin, and he grasps tightly at Hajime’s jeans, pushing them away. Hajime’s mouth works its way back up Nagito’s neck, kissing his mouth. Nagito kisses back, his vision going black.

Shifting against his body, Hajime slides out of his jeans and kicks them away. Nagito lays beneath him, allowing him to dominate him. Hajime unties the loosely tied robe and then slides a hand up it, resting it against his bare hip. Nagito’s breathing comes quick, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. He just wants Hajime to take him, make his mind fuzzy, and satisfy his burning desire.

“Did you lock the door?” Nagito asked under his breath. Hajime lets out a slight laugh, which is hot and breathy against Nagito’s neck. He pulls back, peering into his face.

“Of course I did,” he replied, his voice wavering. His green eyes take in Nagito, a knowing look appearing in them. “You planned this,” he accused, smiling. Nagito bites his lip, and drags him back down to his level. Hajime’s mouth hovers against his, his breathing unsteady.

“Of course I did,” Nagito said, making Hajime’s smile widen; turning it mischievous. Hajime kisses his mouth and then moves to his ear, biting it lightly. Nagito moans, pulling Hajime’s underwear down and tightly wrapping his legs around his waist. Hajime moves his hips against his, throwing more desire into his system. The rhythm slow and sensual, making him get increasingly more aroused. Nagito breathes deeply and quickly, his whole body yearning for more of his touches.

“Your robe…” Hajime muttered into his ear, quickening the friction of their hips. Nagito cries out in pleasure, his back lifting from the bed. “Your hair…” Nagito pants a slight laugh, dragging his nails down his back lightly. “You know exactly what makes me tick…” Hajime whispered, grinding harder and quicker against Nagito, making white dots appear in his vision.

“Hah…” Nagito tries to respond, but just ends up gasping. “H-Hajime, I don’t how- _uh_ -” Nagito cries out, his eyes rolling up. His back is completely lifted off of the bed. Hajime pulls his robe open and touches him until his voice is raw, no more barriers to their skin.

“So much for rest,” Hajime muttered. Nagito would’ve laughed, but he’s too busy moaning through an orgasm.

 

The next morning, Nagito wakes up feeling really good, despite their current situation. It’d been a while since they made love like that. Nagito likes it best that way... slow, sensual- despite it driving him insane.

He loves it when Hajime dominates him. Does what he pleases. The way his strong hands feel and touch him… His mouth kissing and sucking and nibbling at his body, leaving nothing untouched… His stamina, when he finally takes him… Nagito’s toes curl in on themselves at the memory.

Nagito had never been with anyone before… well, not willingly… too afraid of falling in love… too scared to do anything- to be violated like he was when he was thirteen…

Hajime had never been with anyone either. Nagito was his first time. His first love… As much as Nagito loves that, he finds it awful that Hajime was shut out of love for so long.

Well, everything is OK now.

Sort of.

Nagito nuzzles his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck, planning to lay here until his fiancé wakes up naturally. There is no rush to get up.

 

“You had no intension of waking me up did you?” Hajime said, his voice hoarse with sleep. Nagito shakes his head, wrapping his naked body around Hajime’s in a protest of getting up. Hajime chuckles, his arms holding him tighter.

“Nope,” Nagito said, making Hajime laugh again. “I don’t want to get up.” Getting up means facing reality. Even though Nagito has vowed that he won’t let it get to him, he still doesn’t want to face it. Hajime gently strokes his naked back, relaxing Nagito immensely.

“We have to,” he muttered. Nagito opens his eyes, there is only a small amount of light in the room, but it’s enough for Nagito to see the tanned skin of Hajime’s neck. He breathes in deeply, taking in Hajime’s scent; spices and freshly cut grass.

“I know,” Nagito breathed out, untangling himself from Hajime. His fiancé lets him. He scoots across the bed, sitting up, the bed cold in the part they haven’t slept on. Nagito grabs his robe from the floor and puts it on in bed.

“Can’t you stand up and do that?” Hajime asked, smirking. Nagito meets his smile with a disapproving look, but finds it hard to conceal his amusement. “What? I find you attractive.”

Nagito snorts and finds his hair tie on the duvet. “Nice to know you find me _attractive_ ,” Nagito said, tying his hair up and rolling his eyes. Hajime laughs and sits up against the headboard, the duvet pooling around his waist and revealing his broad chest and ripped torso. Nagito drops his hands from his hair, tearing his eyes away.

“Like what you see?” he teased. Nagito shoots him a dubious look and shakes his head, a small smile gracing his mouth.

“Of course I do,” he replied. Hajime crawls over to him, but before Nagito can get out of bed, he pounces on him. “Hajime!” Nagito exclaimed, laughing. “We have to get up, remember,” Nagito said. Hajime straddles his thighs, and gently plays with his hair.

“I love you,” he said. Nagito’s heart misses a beat at the words. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you-” Nagito giggles as Hajime starts repeating himself, muttering it against Nagito’s ear.

“I love you,” Nagito said, planting a kiss against his neck and hugging him tightly. “Now come on. Let’s shower and get dressed.”

“If we have to…” Hajime whined, climbing out of bed. He turns and faces him, placing his hands on his hips. Nagito feels his cheeks burn and he has to bury his face in a pillow. He doesn’t understand how Hajime can be so confident and bold. Sure, Nagito can be, but that’s when he’s mad with desire.

“Come shower with me,” Hajime laughed. Nagito knows he’s laughing at him being so shy.

“Okay…” Nagito said, climbing out of bed. Hajime pulls him against himself and kisses the corner of his mouth. Nagito finds himself growing hotter and drags Hajime towards the bathroom before he gets any redder.

~

Nagito and Hajime walk out of their room, sealing the door closed behind them. Nagito checks himself over, rubbing anxiously at a small crease in his light chinos.

“Hey,” Hajime said, taking his hand gently. Nagito meets his eyes, and gives him a small smile. “Things will be OK,” he said. Nagito nods. Hajime keeps saying things like this. _It will be OK_ ; _Nothing is going to happen_ ; _I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you_. No matter what though, his mind is never at ease… something obviously _can_ happen, and it will… it’s only a matter of time. But like Hajime, he’s prepared to fight. He won’t let anything bad happen to him. He’ll die before that happens.

They walk, hand in hand, down a flight of stairs to the main room. Nagito suspects that’s where everyone is going to be.

“Morning guys!” A loud voice sounds from behind them. Nagito glances over his shoulder and see’s Kazuichi bounding down the stairs, in jeans and bright yellow top; the colour hurts his eyes.

“Crap…” Nagito muttered, rubbing his temple. He completely forgot.

“What is it Nagito?” Hajime asked, concern in his voice.

“Nothing, I just forgot my glasses…” he responded, realising how stupid and menial that sounds out loud. They have more important things to worry about than Nagito’s glasses-

“I packed them,” Hajime said. Nagito looks at him in surprise. “Honestly Nagito, I wouldn’t ever forget something like that. You need them when you get a headache- you don’t honestly think I’d forget something like that, do you?” he said, shaking his head. Nagito smiles, warmth bursting in his chest. He pecks Hajime’s cheek, making him blush.

“Get a room!” Kazuichi yelled. They ignore him and round a corner into the hall, past Togami’s office. “Actually don’t. It wouldn’t surprise me if the houses across the road heard you two last night.” Nagito flushes red, his face and neck burning. He’d not thought about everyone else when they made love last night… Nagito buries his face into the hand that’s not holding Hajime’s. Gosh. He was so loud as well…

“Make another comment like that and we’ll do it with the door open next time,” Hajime said. Nagito turns to him, his face getting hotter. “I was kidding Nagito,” Hajime said, laughing carefree. Nagito shakes his head, making a small ‘hmph’. “Although that would be quite amusing…”

“Hajime!” Nagito exclaimed, sending his fiancé into hysterics. _Honestly_.

 

They head into the main room. Everyone is scattered around the place. Pekoyama is standing by the window, hand on a knife that’s strapped to her belt. Kuzuryuu is sitting on the couch, not looking at anyone. Fujisaki is on the couch opposite, on her laptop, her eyes intent.

Nagito makes his way to the kitchen with Hajime and Kazuichi.

“Toast?” Hajime asked. Nagito nods, sitting down at the counter. Kazuichi places four slices in the toaster and gets the butter out. Nagito glances around the room, Kuzuryuu is looking at him, his eyes sizing him up. He stares back, not retreating from this stare off. If Kuzuryuu has a problem he can come and tell Nagito, not just glare at him from a distance. Kuzuryuu looks away hurriedly. Nagito guesses that’s because Hajime sat down beside him at the counter.

“Let me guess,” Kazuichi started, getting Nagito’s attention. “You have jam on your toast, and Hajime has marmite,” he said. Nagito frowns, not understanding the relevance of the question. “Y’know, because you’re sweet. And you either love or hate Hajime- so he’s like marmite.”

“Call Nagito ‘sweet’ again and I’ll ram the jam jar down your throat,” Hajime said casually. Kazuichi points at him and nods his head.

“Noted,” Kazuichi responded. Nagito finds a small smile forming on his face. The little interaction he just witnessed was so mundane. It’s like, for the time being, they can pretend that everything is OK.

“You’re right though,” Nagito said. “I’ll have jam and Hajime will have marmite.” Kazuichi grins and points at Hajime with the butter knife.

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “OK, you can stop looking at me like that now,” he said. Nagito laughs slightly, as Hajime’s glare starts to grate on Kazuichi. “Seriously dude!”

“Be nice,” Nagito said, putting a hand on his fiancé’s thigh. The toast pops up, making Kazuichi scream high pitched. That cracks Hajime up, and he starts laughing.

“Not funny,” Kazuichi said, placing a hand to his chest. “That just took a year off my life.”

 

After breakfast, they sat in the lounging area. No one really moved much. Kuzuryuu did when they approached. He just went and sat by himself in the kitchen area, glaring at nothing. Hajime said he’s always been like that: it’s nothing personal against Nagito… but despite his words, he can’t help feeling like it is.

“So…” Kazuichi said, breaking the silence. Nagito raises his head from where he was resting it against Hajime’s shoulder and regards him questioningly. “You’re engaged,” he stated, waving a hand at them. Nagito looks at his engagement ring and smiles slightly.

“Yes,” Nagito said, squeezing his and Hajime’s interlocked hands.

“Who proposed and when?” Kazuichi asked. Nagito can detect a hint of sadness in his red eyes. He’s in the same position they were in, when they met… He’s not allowed a romantic relationship- or any relationships for that matter. It’s sad and sick really… but that’s what’s required of someone when they join an organisation like this. It’s safer this way. You don’t have a weakness then, and nothing can hurt you… expect for the longing for love- any kind of love. That’s the only thing that hurts. And it’s painful.

“I proposed,” Hajime said. Nagito nods and smiles at the memory. “Two months ago, Christmas Eve to be exact,” he added. Kazuichi makes a long ‘aw’ and claps his hands together.

“That’s so sweet!” he crooned. “How did you ask him?”

“We were sitting in the living room,” Hajime started, as Nagito brings his legs up and snuggles up against him; resting his head back on his shoulder. “We’d just made gingerbread and I put the ring on the arm of a gingerbread man,” Hajime said, making Nagito laugh.

“He took two gingerbread men,” Nagito said, butting in. “And acted out a conversation.”

“Nagito was giggling the whole time,” Hajime added to the explanation. “I made one of the gingerbread men propose to the other, and that’s when Nagito took one of them and said ‘yes’ to the other.”

Nagito laughs and added, “He made the two gingerbread men kiss.” He giggles, reliving the memory.

“Then I put the ring on his finger, and _we_ kissed,” Hajime said, but Nagito’s too happy to get embarrassed.

“Then we ate the gingerbread men,” Nagito laughed.

“Then I ate Nagito,” Hajime said. Nagito splutters as Kazuichi starts killing himself laughing. “Kidding. We showered and went to bed.” Nagito feels Hajime kiss the top of his head, making his heart swell with warmth.

“That was quite the proposal,” Kazuichi said. “When’s the wedding day?” Nagito’s smile disappears and he’s left feeling hollow… “Oh… shouldn’t I of asked?” he muttered.

“27th of April,” Hajime said, squeezing Nagito’s hand. “And we’re going to be married that day. I promise,” he murmured to Nagito. He nods absently. He’s been planning this wedding for months… he has it all planned out… They’ll walk towards each other and then down the aisle together, they’ll say their vows, be married, kiss, dine, dance, make love, sleep and wake up married. Wake up happy. Be happy. Like they were before this was thrown into their lives-

“Hey,” Kazuichi suddenly said, tapping Nagito. He’s sitting next to him, smiling at him slightly. “You’ll make your wedding day, I promise,” he said holding his hand out. Nagito stares at it. Does he really believe that?

Nagito shakes his hand. Kazuichi smiles, and Nagito feels a bit of hope. If Kazuichi really believes he’ll make his wedding day that means two people believe it now. Their odds are increased.

“Guys. We have company,” Pekoyama said, shattering Nagito’s thought process. They stand from the couch in unison.

“How many?” Hajime asked, squeezing Nagito’s hand so tight his engagement ring is biting into his skin.

“Too many. Twenty,” she said. They’re about to join her at the window, when Kuzuryuu –at another window- yells out.

“EVERYONE GET THE FUCK DOWN!”

Hajime knocks Nagito to the ground, arcing his body around him. Gun shots ring out, shattering windows, piercing the couch, hitting the floor and clanking against the wooden floor. Nagito grips Hajime, pulling him down against himself. He wishes they could mould into the floor, out of reach of the bullets.

“Nagito, listen to what I say and don’t argue with me,” Hajime muttered into his ear, barely audible over the sound of gun fire and Nagito’s own heartbeat. “If I say run, you run. Do you understand.” He said it like a statement, not a question. Nagito digs his fingers into Hajime’s back, feeling a rush of anger and desperation.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said sternly.

The gun fire stops, the room silent expect for the sound of empty shells rolling against the wood.

“Let’s go!” Kuzuryuu yelled. Hajime hauls Nagito up off of the floor, and sprints from the room; pulling Nagito with him. Nagito runs at his side, glancing around. He’s eyes widen in horror when he sees a streak of blood against Hajime’s face.

“Hajime your cheek!” Nagito exclaimed. He could’ve died. If that bullet was at a different angle it could’ve killed him. The reality of their situation hits Nagito like a ton of bricks. Weighing down on his heart.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. They run up two flights of stairs, to the conference room. Pekoyama seals the door behind them as they run through a long corridor, entering a glass door into a room.

“I thought you said the security was _impeccable_!” Hajime shouted, aiming it at a girl with violet hair, and a tall blonde guy. “Togami, what now? Huh? Your brilliant plan of _waiting_ has backfired!” he yelled, his face contorting into something Nagito has only ever seen a few times. Hajime’s scary face. The face resembling fury and hatred.

“We have to get out of here!” Kazuichi exclaimed, looking around himself.

“How?” Kuzuryuu shouted. “The bastards have probably blocked every exit! They’re probably on their way in here now!”

“Is there an emergency exit?” Nagito asked.

“Of course there is,” Togami, the blonde guy, remarked sardonically. Hajime lunges at him, grabbing his collar.

“Then where is it?” he asked lividly. Nagito grabs his arm, desperately trying to pull him away. “WHERE IS IT?” he screamed, his face red and fists white knuckled and shaking with anger. Nagito knows that the only reason Hajime is reacting like this is because of him. Because of Nagito himself; he's petrified something is going to happen to him.

“Togami?” Fujisaki said helplessly. Togami shakes his head, his eyes not breaking away from Hajime’s. Realisation crosses Hajime’s face and he releases him, stepping away.

“It’s blocked. I’ve already checked,” Togami said, uttering the unspoken sentence. Fujisaki lets out a whimper, rubbing at a tear on her cheek. Nagito wraps his arms around Hajime, attempting to calm his shaking.

“Don’t lose hope,” Nagito muttered into his ear, rubbing at his back. “We could still live. Still get out of here. We just have to be smart about it.” His mind whirls, unable to come up with anything full proof.

Hajime pulls back, cupping Nagito’s face gently. “I love you,” he said, his eyes moving manically. Nagito gets the impression he’s memorising his face. It causes a physical pain in his heart.

“I love you too. So much Hajime,” Nagito said, hugging him tightly. Hajime holds him close, cradling his head with one hand, running another up and down his back. He wipes at the blood on Hajime’s cheek, feeling his eyes sting.

“You’re right. There is a chance of survival,” Hajime said. They release each other and face the others. “If we play our cards right we can still live,” he said, meeting everyone’s grave faces.

“What are we going to do then?” Kuzuryuu asked, his voice bordering on breaking, but he does well to mask how afraid he is; keeping his usual façade.

“We’re going to talk to them,” Togami said. “I have no intension of dying. I have someone to protect. I can’t do that from the dead,” he added, his voice hard.

An explosion from down the hall jolts the room. Nagito’s ears start ringing and his vision goes blurry. Hajime grabs onto him, pushing him behind himself.

Footsteps sound from down the hall, getting closer. Nagito grabs Hajime’s arm, squeezing it.

“Don’t cave in, no matter what,” the woman with violet hair said coolly. “This is what you’re trained for. Don’t give in,” she said, looking at Hajime sternly. Nagito steps beside him. He doesn’t need Hajime protecting him. He’s a trained killer as well. Hajime needs reminding of that.

“Hello ya’ bastards!” An average height man emerges from the darkness of the hallway. Nagito clenches his teeth. The guy is dressed in half black and half white, one side of his face is etched into an eerily smile. The skin has been ripped from his face, revealing the flesh beneath. It’s scarred like that, making it look like he’s constantly grinning manically. That’s not what’s got Nagito staring in silent horror though. What’s got him staring is his left eye. It’s been cut out and scarred over, by red tissue, in the shape of a zig-zag. What sort of awful thing could have happened to his eye for it to end up like that? “Miss me?” he chuckles loudly, the sound piercing Nagito’s ears.

“Monokuma?” Hajime said. Nagito glances at him. His fiancé’s face is pale and looking at him in horror. _He knows him_?

“AH!” he exclaimed, “A promising student of mine. I trained you well.”

“Monokuma was the person hired to train all the staff at the organisation,” Hajime explained to Nagito quietly. “He’s the person who taught me how to be a cold blooded killer.” Nagito nods slightly, eyeing the man wearily.

“Boy, have I got a lot to say!” he laughed. Four people come forward and stand at his side. Three of them look like they could snap Nagito in half like a toothpick. One has strange hair, and looks like a biker. The second person has dark hair and an air of authority. He reminds Nagito of a PE teacher he had in secondary school… The third person has silver hair and a scar on their cheek. The fourth person has short brown hair and a large grin on her face.

“I’m sure we can talk, Monokuma,” Togami said calmly, folding his arms across his chest. Monokuma’s face stretches into a wider grin, making the hair on Nagito's arms stand up.

“Oh. I plan on talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on the 2nd of July.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting yesterday, I was out all day and didn't get time.

Nagito watches the man intently. Monokuma glances at them all individually, his face amused… But when his eyes meet Nagito’s, they light up. Nagito almost breaks eye contact, but refuses to give into their current threat: so he stares back.

“Who do we have here?” he asked. Hajime holds an arm out to his side, as if to shield Nagito. “Are you new? I don’t remember training you up.” Nagito doesn’t reply, and no one else in the room says anything either.

Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically, holding his stomach. “Don’t tell me!” he exclaimed, pointing in Nagito’s direction. “You and Hinata? Oh dear…” he tuts, and his expression becomes cruelly predatory. “I thought I trained you better than that Hajime… Love is a weakness, remember?”

“Why don’t you tell us where you went five years ago?” Togami suddenly said. Monokuma slowly turns to him, his expression remaining the same devilish smile. Nagito feels his skin prickle, watching his movements. He’s like an animal. A predator.

“ _Five years ago_?” he repeated questioningly, humming in thought. “You’ll have to be more specific than that. I’m afraid my cotton filled head is not what it used to be,” he added. Nagito frowns, _is this guy trying to be funny_?

“ _October_ five years ago, does that ring any bells inside your thick head?” Togami seethed, gritting his teeth and visibly baring them. Monokuma chuckles loudly, throwing his head back. “Answer the question.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, a smile etched across his face. “Yes. I remember. An old student of mine contacted me. They told me their plans. Very good plans indeed,” he said, laughing behind a hand. Nagito notices that he only has three fingers. His right ring finger and thumb is missing. He swallows against the lump forming in his throat and shifts in his place, quickly glancing at the other four people beside Monokuma. Their expressions remain the same and their stances haven’t changed. It’s almost as if they’re under some sort of command to only move when asked to.

“What plans?” the girl with the violet hair asked, her face silently calculating.

“Kirigiri, pleasure to see you again,” Monokuma said, his intact eye flashing. The woman, Kirigiri, doesn’t respond to him. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” he said loudly. “I can’t tell you the plans because that would be defying my student! But what I can say is why we’re targeting you: you deserve to be told that before you die.” Nagito feels his blood run cold at that sentence. He’s going to kill them. He’s going to kill Hajime, and Nagito is going to be forced to watch.

Hajime’s hand slips into his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Nagito releases a silent breath, hiding their hands behind themselves. He doesn’t want to give Monokuma a reason to single them out more than he already has.

“Get on with it then,” Togami snapped. Monokuma closes in on himself and looks at them, pouting almost.

“No need to be so horrible to a small person like me,” he said. Nagito feels like throttling him. “You’re not alone in this killing game of ours,” Monokuma said, returning to his normal fixture. “We’re planning on wiping out all organisations like this. You see, you pose a threat to us. You all do. In order for our plan to work we can’t have people meddling with our business! We need to be all powerful! And we can’t do that with you people going around doing the dirty work that we need to do.” Monokuma points accusingly at them, his fingernails unnaturally long and sharp. Everything about this man makes Nagito’s skin crawl.

“So correct me if I’m wrong,” Togami started, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and frowning thoughtfully. “You are destroying all criminal organisations in order to make sure that your organisation is unbeatable.”

Monokuma nods, his grin widening. “You’ve got it! You always where one of the sharper ones!”

“Your plan is to eliminate parties that pose a threat to your organisation, like our one,” Kirigiri added to the conversation. Monokuma lets out a loud burst of laugher, making Nagito’s head throb.

“You’ve got it all right! A+ Kirigiri!” he cried, holding his stomach and laughing madly. “Although,” he suddenly said, his laughter disappearing. He looks at them, his eyes silently judging. “It’s too bad we’re going to have to kill you all.” Nagito’s heart starts beating hard in his chest at his words. Hajime squeezes his hand. His silent promise that he’ll do everything he can to ensure Nagito’s safety. Nagito tightens his hold on his hand- his silent promise that so will he.

“Let us live,” Kuzuryuu said. “We’ll shut the organisation down. Live normal lives-” He’s cut off by another burst of hysterical laughter.

“But you know too much,” Monokuma said. “You know we exist. That’s too risky. Now. Enough of living. Let’s start killing.” His eyes scan the row of people, eyeing them with that same smile he had when he first arrived. His eyes stop at Nagito, and he feels as though his heart stopped as well. “How about you?” he asked, gesturing for two people behind him to step forward. The guy with strange hair, and the person with the silver hair. “Him. The pretty one with the white hair.” The two people step forward and Hajime shoves Nagito behind himself.

“Stay away from him,” he said sternly. “Monokuma stop this. You know us. You trained us. Why are you doing this?” he asked, and Nagito can hear the rage in his voice- can feel the fury radiating off of him.

“Because I have to,” Monokuma replied. “And I want to,” he added, laughing hysterically. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

Nagito decides to take Monokuma’s words seriously. He won’t make this hard on Hajime. He knows that if he lets Hajime protect him: he’ll get hurt. Or worse. So he takes a deep breath and releases his hand, stepping past him.

“Nagito, what are you doing?” Hajime asked quickly, grabbing his arm. Nagito would’ve responded, told him that he doesn’t want him getting hurt because of him- but he’s grabbed by firm hands, dragging him away. “Nagito!” Hajime shouted, his face contorting into distress. He reaches forward, but gets held back by two more of Monokuma’s ‘guards’; pinning his arms to his sides. “ _Nagito_!” he yelled. “Stop it! _Stop it_! Monokuma, _NO_!” he screamed. Nagito feels his eyes start to sting, seeing Hajime so distraught.

Nagito’s hamstrings are kicked from behind, sending him crashing to his knees. His arms are pinned behind his back by the person with silver hair.

“It’ll be over before you know it!” Monokuma said loudly. “Actually… I’ve changed my mind- I think I’ll make his death slow and painful… I’ve had a stressful week,” he added, his face gleaming with devilish delight. Nagito’s not afraid of death, or the pain it’s going to cause- what he’s afraid of is Hajime witnessing it. His Hajime is going to watch him die, knowing there is nothing he can do to stop it.

“ _NO_!” Hajime cried, his voice raw. Nagito lets out a choked sob, watching as Hajime thrashes around in his captives grip, desperately trying to get to him. “ _DON’T_! Please, please, don’t do this… _Please_! I’ll do anything, _anything_. Just don’t hurt him, I’m _begging_ _you_!” Hajime cried, whimpering and screaming. Monokuma sighs in fake exasperation, placing a hand to his chin.

“Anything, huh?” he said. Nagito struggles against his captor, he doesn’t like the way Monokuma is taking Hajime’s words seriously.

“Get off me!” Nagito shouted, throwing his head back and head butting the person holding him. He’s released, his head spinning. He hears Hajime call his name, his voice strained. Nagito realises he shouldn’t of done that, as the next minute he’s turned around and thrown onto his back, pinned there by a foot to his shoulder.

“Okay Hinata, you have my attention,” Monokuma said, twirling a knife around in his hand. He glances at Nagito and grins, coming closer to him. Nagito stares at him with a hard face, refusing to show any kind of emotion. Monokuma presses the tip of his knife to Nagito’s cheekbone, lightly grazing it towards his eye. “Hajime, would you still be interested in him if I cut his eye out?” he asked.

“ _You dare_ ,” Hajime spat. Monokuma grins and flicks the knife away, leaving Nagito’s skin intact. Nagito hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until Monokuma looked away from him.

“ _Anything_?” Monokuma said again, and Nagito has to bite his tongue from saying something. “Hmm… That is a dangerous thing to say Hajime…”

“ _Anything_!” Hajime shouted. “Just promise me you won’t hurt him. Or anyone else here!” Nagito wriggles against the floor. He doesn’t want Hajime to do anything. He can’t. The shoe of the person pinning him to the floor, digs into his shoulder, making him wince. He clenches his teeth, refusing to succumb to the pain. Nagito has to protect Hajime. He has to.

“Okay, I promise I won’t hurt him or your colleagues,” Monokuma said.

“And neither will anyone else?” Hajime said. Monokuma laughs and nods, his teeth bared.

“You know me so well Hinata,” Monokuma said, and eventually nods. “No harm will come to your beau or anyone else present in this room.” He gestures for Nagito to be released, and he does. His shoulder aching. He turns over and scrambles up, running to Hajime- who is also released. Hajime pulls him into a tight embrace with bone crushing strength. He runs a hand through Nagito’s hair, cradling him against himself. Nagito holds onto him tightly, clutching his back.

“I love you,” Hajime whispered, kissing his neck repeatedly. Nagito’s eyes sting and he wipes them against the crook of Hajime’s neck; breathing in his scent. “I love you so fucking much Nagito Komaeda. I love you, I love you,” he muttered breathlessly, swaying on his feet.

“I love you too,” Nagito said quietly, afraid to let go of him. Scared that if he does Monokuma will take him away from him.

“Aww! Isn’t this sweet!” Monokuma crooned, chilling the atmosphere. Hajime releases him, still holding onto him protectively though. “I’ve decided what I want in return for this sacrifice,” Monokuma said. Nagito shakes his head, gripping Hajime tightly.

“What?” Hajime asked, his tone as hard as stone. Monokuma’s smile takes up his whole face; his teeth showing.

“You. You come with us. Tell us information about your organisation, about where the loved ones of your colleagues live; you’ll tell us everything,” Monokuma said. “And if you don’t tell us willingly, then we’ll torture it out of you.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt-”

“Ah!” Monokuma laughed, cutting Hajime off from speaking. “I promised not to hurt anyone _present in this room_. That doesn’t stop me from hurting their loved ones.”

“But I don’t know where any of those people live,” Hajime said. Monokuma laughs, and Nagito feels his spine go ridged.

“Then this is not going to be fun for you! Get him.” The four people start making their way over. Nagito grabs onto Hajime, shaking his head violently, tears making their way down his face.

“No, no,” Nagito cried. Hajime tries to get Nagito to release him, but he refuses to let go. “ _No_!” Nagito screamed. “No! You’re not going anywhere! _NO_!” Hands grab Hajime, yanking him away from Nagito. “NO! _HAJIME_! _No_!” Nagito is held back by Kazuichi and Kuzuryuu as he screams at the people taking his fiancé away from him. Nagito wrenches against their hands, trying to lurch forward.

“Komaeda, stop.” Someone yanks him back, but Nagito is screaming too loudly to hear them properly.

“HAJIME!” Nagito screeched, his eyes blurry with tears. Hajime’s turned around and thrown to the floor. Monokuma laughs hysterically as he orders the people to give Hajime a _good beating_. Nagito screams as he watches Hajime get kicked at. “ _STOP IT_!” he shouted, falling to his knees, hands grabbing at his arms. Hajime is silent as he’s kicked at, adding to Nagito’s torment.

They grab Hajime and hurl him away. With a wave, Monokuma turns around and disappears down the hall. Like he was never there. Nagito’s voice is raw and hoarse and his eyes are a never ending waterfall of tears. He gets his footing and elbows the people holding him back. He takes off, sprinting down the hallway.

“Komaeda!” his name is yelled, and he knows there are people chasing after him. He doesn’t care. He’s not letting them take Hajime away from him. He won’t let them. _No_. The things Monokuma said he’d do to him…

Nagito sobs and hurtles himself down the stairs to the bottom floor.

He skids into the main entrance, stepping on broken glass and almost slipping over empty bullet shells. _Hajime_! Nagito shouts internally, smashing the last of the glass window and jumping out.

He sees a door to a black van just closing, driving away. Nagito sprints towards it. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he makes it. He just needs to get to Hajime. His heart thumps wildly in his chest and his ears are ringing. The van speeds down the road and Nagito tries desperately to catch up, but it’s no use.

He collapses to the floor, heaving.

“No…” he sobbed, hitting his fists repeatedly against the ground. “No… No… NO!” he screamed, choking on his own sobs.

He’s not sure how long he’s been on the floor, hitting the floor and screaming, but someone puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. Nagito falls against them, sobbing. He’s failed Hajime. He’s failed him. He promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to him and he’s been taken. He’s been taken…

“We’ll get him back,” a familiar voice said determinedly. Nagito lets out another scream, kicking out at nothing. The person’s arms tighten around him, stopping him from throwing a fit out of anger.

“Hajime…” Nagito croaked out, his voice thick with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on the 9th


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was out all day yesterday, like last weekend, so I apologise for the day-late update again.

Nagito eventually found his feet, getting off of the floor, with help from Kazuichi. Kazuichi held him supportively as they made their way back inside, Kuzuryuu was there as well, helping shoulder some of his weight.

He’s now sitting in a small lounging area, on an untouched floor. He stares blankly at a coffee table. Fujisaki draped a blanket over his shoulders, and Pekoyama made him a hot drink, which burns his hands as he holds it. Kirigiri bounded his knuckles, as the skin is split open from where he was hitting the concrete outside, and it stings. But the pain is nothing compared to the loss of Hajime.

“We’re all in trouble now,” Kuzuryuu said, pacing up and down. Nagito watches absently, his mind vague.

“No we’re not,” Kirigiri argued calmly. “Hinata is trained not to crack. He won’t spill anything about us to those people. No matter what they do to him,” she added. Nagito flinches at her words, dropping the mug of hot liquid on the floor. Images of Hajime being tortured flash across his mind…

 _Torture_. That’s what Monokuma said…

Nagito balls his hands up into shaking fists. Hajime is going to be tortured… he’s going to be put through so much pain, all so he can protect Nagito and his old colleagues. And his colleagues loved ones- even if they haven’t spoken to them in years.

He grips his legs, trying to stop the trembling.

“ _Kirigiri_ ,” Kazuichi hissed. “Be more sensitive...” Nagito places his hands to his face, his body shaking all over.

“I’m saying it how it is,” she said bluntly. “Hinata will endure everything that gets thrown at him, and he will not crack.”

“She’s right,” Togami said. “Hinata would never give in. It’s one of the reasons I was so reluctant to let him go, he’s a great asset to the organisation. So we have nothing to worry about.”

Nagito stands from his seat, the blanket leaving his shoulders. His body trembles with rage, his eyes manic.

“Can you hear yourselves?” he said loudly, his voice shaking like the rest of him. “Worrying about yourselves? Does anyone care that Hajime sacrificed himself for all of you? Not just me!” Nagito screamed, putting his foot through the glass of the coffee table.

“Komaeda calm down,” Kazuichi said, putting his hands on his shoulders. Nagito flinches and shoves him away.

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled, his past flashing behind his eyes. “I don’t even know you.” Kazuichi retracts and puts his hands up in surrender. “He’s going to be tortured for information, about all of you!” Nagito shouted. “And all you can do is stand there and worry about him spilling your pathetic secrets.” Nagito glares at them all, the urge to kill every single person in the room is so overwhelming for him. “You make me _sick_ ,” he spat, looking them all square in the eye. “You all deserve what you get.”

“That’s enough,” Togami bellowed. “I know the situation is having a dire effect on you, but you need to remain civil.”

“ _Why_?” Nagito hissed. “Can’t handle the truth? You all know you deserve whatever comes your way. You brought this on yourselves.”

“We’ll get him back,” a small voice said. Nagito searches the faces in front of him and see’s Fujisaki looking at him firmly. “I’ll help you get him back.” Nagito feels some anger leave his system. So there is hope for some of these people.

“So will I,” Kazuichi said. “We all will.” Nagito sees the people in the room nod, but the only people he can see that actually mean it are Fujisaki and Kazuichi. He tightens his hands into fists, his blunt nails digging into his skin.

“Let’s get some rest first,” Togami said, like he _plans_ on actually doing something. Which Nagito can see: he doesn’t. “We need it. We have a lot to do tomorrow.” Nagito clenches his teeth against the lies spilling from Togami’s mouth. “I have something I need to do first…” he added.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow,” Nagito said, his voice sounding far away. “I need to start looking now.”

“Listen to reason Komaeda,” Kazuichi said. Nagito looks at him, frowning. “Hajime wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself. You won’t be able to do anything if you are.” Nagito feels his heart twist painfully in his chest as the name of his fiancé is spoken. _Hajime_ … a longing for him eats away at Nagito, slowly making him feel deflated…

As much as he hates to admit it to himself, Kazuichi is right. Hajime would be furious and sad to find out that Nagito has made himself ill on his behalf…

“Fine,” Nagito gritted out. “First thing tomorrow we start looking. I swear to god, if there are any more excuses I’ll kill you all myself,” he threatened, stepping over the broken glass and storming out of the room.

He charges up to his room, getting there quick before he breaks down on the stairs.

He throws the door open, slamming it shut and sinking down the wood. He buries his face against his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He rocks back and forth muttering the same thing repeatedly. He wants Hajime to know how _sorry_ he is. Somehow, he thinks, if he says it enough maybe Hajime will hear and get the message. Maybe he’ll forgive him…

No. Nagito shakes that last thought from his mind. He knows Hajime doesn’t blame him, even though he should; this is his fault at the end of the day. If he hadn’t of fallen in love with him, he wouldn’t have felt the need to protect him, which means he wouldn’t have been taken. It’s all Nagito’s fault.

“It’s all my fault...”

~

Makoto flips mindlessly through the TV channels. _Why is there nothing interesting on on a Wednesday night?_

He hears someone come through the front door and glances at the clock on the wall. 7pm. Byakuya is later than usual…

“In here!” Makoto called out, turning the TV off and standing from the couch. Byakuya enters the living room, looking tired. “Hey, you OK?” he asked, walking over to him. Byakuya nods unconvincingly. “Don’t lie to me.”

“There’s something important I need to tell you,” Byakuya said, looking at him gravely.

“What is it?” Makoto asked, looking at him patiently. Byakuya flips the lounge light on, the room illuminated in orange light. “Byakuya? You’re worrying me, what is it?” he asked again, becoming concerned. His husband is never this vague. Sure, sometimes he zones out, but he’s never acted so ambiguous before.

“You know I love you, right?” Byakuya said, lightly touching his arm. Makoto frowns and nods, looking up slightly at his husband. Makoto used to be tiny compared to Byakuya, but puberty hit him late, and it _really_ hit him. Now he’s only a head smaller; if he was to stand side by side with him he’d come just below Byakuya’s shoulders.

“Yeah, of course,” Makoto said, taking the hand on his arm. “What’s this about?”

“And you love _me_ , right?” he asked. Makoto frowns, his heart starting to beat wearily. Where is all this coming from? Has Byakuya cheated on him or something? _No_. He wouldn’t do that to him. No way.

“Yeah, I love you. Of course I love you. I’ve loved you since we first met, six years ago,” Makoto said, smiling slightly. “Tell me what this is about.”

Byakuya takes in a long breath and squeezes Makoto’s hand. “I’m not who you think I am Makoto.” Makoto frowns, and he’s about to ask what he means, when he starts talking again. “I’m in charge of an organisation. I give jobs to hitmen and woman, assassins, hackers- the list is endless.” Makoto feels a lump form in his throat, and he releases Byakuya’s hand, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. “You –what- break the law? You’re a murderer?” he asked. Byakuya sighs and rubs his temple. “Tell me you’re lying and this is some attempt at a joke- because we both know you’re not very good at telling jokes-”

“Makoto-”

“I mean you somehow manage to mess up a simple ‘knock knock’ joke,” Makoto rambled, trying to understand why on earth Byakuya is saying all this. “Like those jokes in the Christmas crackers, you can’t even tell _them_ properly-”

“Makoto listen to me!” Byakuya yelled. Makoto stops talking and stares at his husband. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, his hair is tousled; his skin is pale. “I’m not personally a murderer. But I am responsible for the people that do the killing.” Makoto takes a step back, shaking his head. “An organisation similar to mine has threatened to kill me and the people who work for me. They have also threatened to kill anyone that we care about- so in my case you. That’s why we’ve come to France. To get away from these people- but they found us. They got into the organisation today and attempted to murder us all, but someone who used to work for me stepped up. He made a deal with them, in exchange for keeping his fiancé, and everyone else safe, he went with them… God knows what they plan on doing with him…” Byakuya rubs his head. Makoto stares at him in horror. This real. This is not a joke. Byakuya, his husband who he’s been with since he was eighteen, is a- a- he doesn’t even know! That’s the sick part! He doesn’t even know who he’s own husband is. “Makoto,” Byakuya said, breaking his thought process. “Makoto, say something.”

“Get out,” Makoto said. Byakuya’s face contorts into pain and it breaks Makoto’s heart- but he can’t think! He can’t think with Byakuya standing there, looking at him like a lost puppy. “I said get out!” Makoto yelled. A muscle jumps in Byakuya’s jaw, and he nods; his shoulders slumping slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Byakuya said. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared how you would react.”

“And that makes it OK?” Makoto asked, his voice getting louder. “I- I-” Makoto screws his hands in his messy hair, breathing in deeply, his heart contracting painfully in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say- or do! All he knows is he needs Byakuya away from him. He wants his own husband _away from him_. “GET OUT!” Makoto shouted. Byakuya nods, his face painful. Makoto breathes heavily, unable to control his shaking.

“Makoto, promise me if anyone approaches you, you ignore them and get as far away from them as possible,” Byakuya said, seizing his arms, and if he saw Makoto flinch he didn’t let on that he did. “Please. Despite what you think of me right now, I love you and if something happens to you I’ll die.” Makoto wriggles out of his grasp and steps away from him, stumbling.

“Get out,” he repeated, keeping his voice firm. Byakuya lets out a breath and turns around. “And I will. I’m going to start with you,” Makoto said. Byakuya stops walking and Makoto sees his head dip. His heart yearns to reach out for him, but his brain tells him to let him go: so he does.

Byakuya continues walking. When he hears the door shut, Makoto collapses to the floor. He presses his shaking hands against the ground, keeping himself upright. _What just happened_?

~

Nagito awakes from a restless nap, screaming Hajime’s name. He blinks in the darkness, rolling onto his other side. He hesitantly reaches across the other side of the bed, feeling the cold bedsheets… Hajime’s not there… He didn’t dream it… This is real… Hajime’s gone.

He wipes at his crusted eyes. He must have cried himself to sleep. It doesn’t surprise him.

Breathing out, Nagito gets out of bed, walking to the bathroom. He’s not going to lay around and wait. He needs to do something. And he’s going to start now.

He washes his face, quickly cleaning his teeth and gargling some mouthwash; bringing moisture back to his mouth. He dries his face and walks to the cupboard, throwing out a white top and a pair of stretchy black jeans.

Dressing into clean clothing, Nagito makes a plan of action. Step one: Wake Fujisaki and ask her to give him the details of the people they tried to exploit three years ago; Kazuichi said there was a connection. _Perhaps they were here today_.

Step Two: Hunt them down one by one. Torture information out of them; just like Hajime will be having done to him…

Step Three: Get Hajime.

Three simple steps that he _will_ complete in less than three days. That’s all the time he needs. He can do this. He will do it.

Nagito grabs a pair of black ankle boots, tying them up tightly. There is a blade in the sole of the shoe, making them handy.

Grabbing a black jacket, Nagito exits his room and heads towards Fujisaki’s, making sure not to wake anyone.

He raps on the door lightly, and waits impatiently outside for a response. It’s not long and there is one. Fujisaki pops her head out, her eyes widening as she takes in Nagito’s clothed body.

“I can guess why you are here,” she said, opening the door wider. He walks in, noticing a laptop glowing on a desk opposite him. “I’ve been awake gathering information on the people here today…” she muttered, walking over to the laptop and sitting down. Nagito follows and leans over her shoulder. “Um… I’ve printed it out. Here.” She hands over three files. The first one says ‘Mondo Owada’. Inside has a picture of the biker with the cone hair. “I could only get information on three of them, as they are the only people here today that I knew.” Nagito opens another file: Nekomaru. The guy who reminded Nagito of a PE teacher. And the final file: Akane Owari. The woman with the large grin. Nagito remembers their faces vividly. Dragging Hajime away as Nagito screams his throat raw.

“Thank you,” Nagito said, shaking the memory away and closing the files.

“It’s okay… I take it you’re going,” she said. Nagito nods in response. “I understand… Your secret is safe with me. Take the back exit, it will make less noise.” She gives him a reassuring smile, and he finds himself returning it.

“Thanks. I will,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. She blushes and smiles widely. Nagito turns around and walks towards the door. Before he leaves he turns back and meets her eyes. “And _your_ secret is safe with _me_ ,” he said, flicking his eyes towards a pair of boy boxers on her bed.

She starts, but Nagito holds a hand up, smiling kindly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. Just be more careful next time. If you don’t want people knowing you’re actually a guy, put them away,” he said. Fujisaki nods and stands from her seat.

“Thank you Komaeda,” she said quietly. “You’re a really nice person. I was confused at first, as to why Hinata left for you… why he would risk everything to keep you safe… but now I get it. Here, take this-” she hands Nagito a slip of paper with a number on. “It’s my number. If you ever need anything, just text or ring. Look after yourself.”

“You too Fujisaki,” Nagito said, nodding to her. “If things get bad again: run.” Fujisaki glances to her boxers on her bed and clenches her jaw.

“I think I’ve done enough running,” she said fiercely. Nagito smiles slightly and bows his head in understanding, before exiting the room and leaving the Covert in search for his fiancé. And he’ll start with Mondo Owada.

~

On the way out of the Covert, Nagito had swiped up some car keys from inside the main room. It was to a small KA. It doesn’t bother him what he’s driving as long as it works. Besides, he’ll have to ditch it at his next stop and get another car; he can’t risk being traced.

He also picked up a fake police badge. They are handy when getting information that he can’t get access to himself. Also, people are more inclined to do what a person with authority says… like if he ever needs to see a doctor quickly.

In the file, it said Mondo Owada checks games out at a gaming shop in the town. If Nagito can get into the building, he can look at the CCTV and see if Owada has a car, if so he can get his number plate; if he gets the bus, he can get the number and ask the driver which stop he gets on at… If he walks… well, Nagito will cross that bridge when he gets to it.

He pulls into the small empty carpark, turning his headlights off. He doesn’t want his face being caught on camera. He looks through the windscreen, looking along the shop. He looks in the places there should be cameras and comes across nothing. There are also no signs saying ‘CCTV, smile’. Nagito’s fluent in multiple languages, one of them being French; making everything he needs to do so much easier.

Frowning he squints towards the corner of the shop. _Bingo_.

Sitting inside a drain, is a small camera, pointing directly at the car park.

Climbing out of the car, he pulls his hood up. He jogs over to the shop, peering inside the window. The lights are out and the door is locked. He trails his hand along the bay window, sliding three fingers into the gap between the glass and the wood. The pane lifts, but it doesn’t come out of the pane.

He knocks his hood down and ties his hair up, running around the side of the shop and sliding into the narrow walk way between the shop and a bunch of tall hedges. Pulling on his hair and securing it, he turns around, facing a glass door. Preying its open he tries the handle.

Of course, it’s never always so simple. He reaches up, feeling along the top of the door. He lets out a silent breath of relief and unhooks a metal key from the top of the door. He slides it into the lock and enters the shop.

Closing the door behind him, Nagito heads inside, glancing around. To his left is a bunch of offices, and to his right is the shop.

He heads towards the offices, taking out the piece of paper that has the most recent date Owada had been to the game shop. _Monday_. Nagito swallows the lump forming in his throat. Monday was the day his whole life was turned upside down…

Hajime being kicked at, emerges again, making his heart and stomach feel like they’re burning.

Nagito shakes his head and sits down at a computer with multiple screens. He boots it up, a soft glow emitting from the screen. He just hopes the security camera’s work.

Chewing on his bottom lip, his knee bobbing up and down, Nagito’s eyes scan the computer screen. He clicks on a file labelled ‘ _CCTV_ ’. Inside are multiple other files. He clicks on _February_ and then on _Monday 24 th_. Another few files come up and Nagito clicks at them rapidly. _Outside_ / _9:00- 3:00pm_ / _2:00pm_. Nagito watches the footage with intent eyes. He scans the small crowd of people. It says on his file that he came to the shop between 2- 3pm. Fujisaki’s hacking skills are impeccable, how she got all this information is beyond Nagito.

He rapidly clicks the space bar, pausing the footage. Nagito, grabs a pen from the desk he’s sitting at and scribbles down a number plate onto the back of the piece of paper. On the screen in black and white, getting off of a motorbike, not a care in the world, is Mondo Owada.

Nagito gets his phone out and texts the number plate over to Fujisaki. He takes the piece of paper, pocketing it and his phone. He logs the computer off and exits the room; closing the door behind him. He takes the key out of his pocket and heads out the door he came through.

He locks the door, wipes the key against his top; removing his fingerprints. Once wiped he drops it on the floor. He can’t put it back on the top otherwise his prints will be on the key, so the floor is the best option. Anyone with common sense would believe it just fell from the hook.

Nagito makes his way along the side of the shop, his back scraping the brick.

He freezes. Hearing the sound of a car door echoing from the small carpark. _Who would be here at 2am_? Nagito moves quietly and peers around the corner. His eyes widen and he presses his back against the shop, breathing out slowly; his heart thumping so loudly he’s afraid Nekomaru and Owari will hear it.

“The tracking device say he’s here,” Nekomaru said. _Crap_. Nagito didn’t think about that… of course they’d bug the vehicles…

“Just check around the back,” Owari said. After a moment, Nagito leans forward, peering around the corner. He sees them round the opposite corner, and uses this as an opportunity to get away.

Sprinting across the carpark, he heads towards a silver ford. They left the keys inside. Nagito smiles and starts the car, putting it into gear and speeding away; skidding a U-turn. He drives from the car park, seeing Owari and Nekomaru sprinting after him.

His smile fades as he remembers how he chased the black van holding Hajime captive...

He grits his teeth and speeds away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.

 

Fujisaki tears his eyes from his computer to view the message on his phone. It’s from Nagito. He’s been gone for half an hour and already has information on Mondo Owada. His number plate.

He smiles at his phone and turns back to his computer, closing down some files and bringing up another hack bar. He speedily types in Mondo Owada’s number plate, hacking past barriers and covering his tracks at the same time.

A picture of a black motorbike comes up. Fujisaki un-blurs the floor; typing in a bunch of codes that are gibberish to everyone other than himself. The floor comes into focus as every decryption, he manages to smash virtually, makes the pixels disperse.

The parking space, his motorbike is parked in, has the number _52_ painted on it. Fujisaki moves his cursor, altering the image and enlarging a small road name. This will tell him where Mondo Owada lives.

 

Nagito pulls over into a parking bay. He gets out the car and runs towards another one. A black Mercedes. He needs to change cars again. He can’t risk being tracked: he suspects the car he stole from Nekumaru and Owari has a black box inside which can be monitored by Monokuma. It bought him more time using their car to get away, but it’s only a matter of time before Monokuma starts tracking it.

The car unlocks. Nagito jumps inside, pulling at the wires under the steering wheel. He pulls at two wires, disconnecting them. Bracing himself for the slight sting that comes with hotwiring a car, he places the tips of the two wires together. With a spark the engine starts.

Nagito hisses against the burn in his finger tips and closes the car door, driving off once again. Getting away from the car he just left.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He slides it out, viewing the contents as he drives. It’s from Fujisaki. It reads: Mondo Owada lives at an apartment in _Rue Vercingétorix_ , Flat 52.

Nagito screen shots her message and throws his phone into the seat next to him. He turns the wheel of the car rapidly, speeding the wrong way around a deserted one-way system, and heads towards central Paris.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update again, my word document fucked up so I've only just been able to move the contents of the story from there to here.  
> (Excuse my language but it pissed me off)

Driving past the speed limit, Nagito grips the steering wheel tightly, trying to shake the mental image of Hajime being kicked at. He didn’t even wince… Nagito suspects he did it for him. His eyes start stinging, his lip trembling. Hajime was serious when he said he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him… He sacrificed himself for him, and everyone else- for people he hadn’t seen for over three years…

They don’t deserve Hajime’s friendship… if they were even friends when he worked for the organisation anyway. All they did was pace back and forth, afraid that Hajime’s going to tell Monokuma about their secrets. About where their loved ones live- if they have any.

He tightens his already hard grip on the steering wheel and hurtles a corner, blinking rapidly against the burning tears in his eyes.

No time for tears. Crying won’t change anything. He needs to be _strong_. Like Hajime.

A white building, softly lit by streetlamps, comes into focus. That’s Owada’s flat building. He should be in. It’s 3am.

Nagito pulls into the car park, spotting a motorbike parked nearby. He gets out the piece of paper with the number plate written on it, and views the number. Yes. That’s his motorbike.

He’s about to get out the car, when Owada himself comes running out of his building. Nagito sinks low in his seat, swearing under his breath. Has Owada been notified that Nagito’s here? That can’t be possible. They have no way of tracking the vehicle he’s in… And Owada’s getting on his motorbike, he’s not approaching Nagito. So, where is he going?

He revs his bike and drives away speedily. Nagito leaves it a few seconds before following. He doesn’t want to make it glaring obvious that he’s following him…

 

Nagito managed to remain a reasonable amount of distance away from Owada… Although it’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow him with the speed he’s going. Nagito can, has, and doesn’t mind, breaking the speed limit, but if he does Owada will no doubt notice he’s being followed. It’s a risk Nagito cannot take.

As Nagito turns the corner Owada went down, he sees the road ahead is empty. Frowning in confusion, Nagito slows down, glancing down each road turning.

“ _Great_ ,” he hissed to himself. He quickly grabs his phone and speed dials Fujisaki’s number.

“Komaeda?” she whispered from the other end, almost automatically.

“I’ve lost Owada. Can you track his vehicle somehow?” Nagito asked hurriedly, looking around; down every road; on every driveway he passes; every layby and bus stop.

“Yes, I can. If he’s vehicle is on I can track it,” she replied, and he can hear a distant tapping against her keyboard. Nagito mutters a ‘thank you’ to whatever godly presence is looking over him. “He’s heading towards a mansion down a road called _Rue Violet_ ,” she said.

“Thanks,” Nagito said, putting the phone on loudspeaker and placing it in the chair beside him, as he starts making route for the road. He passed it on his way to Owada’s flat building, so he knows where it is. “What do you think he’s going there for?” Nagito asked, “Does anything in the information you gathered mention that road? I would look myself but I’m driving.”

“Um…” she hummed whilst typing away, and Nagito can hear it distinctively through the phone. “No. He’s not ever been there before, but… The person who lives there is someone called Makoto Naegi…” Nagito pulls a face, even though Fujisaki can’t see it. “I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Me neither,” he said. “Do you think he works for their organisation or something?”

“I don’t think so… not judging by his information,” she said. “It says here that he’s a twenty four year old lawyer. He comes from a nice family background, went to the most prestigious university and graduated early with a diploma in Law at the age of twenty two… He was offered a job as soon as he left university and has only ever lost two cases- both in which the judge called a mistrial- they worked in his favour…” she informed and then stops suddenly. “None of this information is relevant, sorry Nagito.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “Thanks for the information. He doesn’t seem to be a part of the organisation… then again, we can’t judge the guy based on his information. It could be forged-” Nagito stops the car abruptly, turning the engine off. “Fujisaki I’ll be in contact. I’m at the mansion.”

“Okay Komaeda,” she said softly. “Be careful.” Nagito hangs up and slides his phone in his pocket. He gets out of his –stolen- car, silently closing the door. He stopped the car a reasonable distance away; not to be noticed by Owada.

He heads over to the mansion and peers around corner. He decides to just wait it out- just in case.

~

Makoto has been in the same spot ever since Byakuya left. His mind is racing. He can’t believe what he’s been told… Byakuya breaks the law. He helps criminals get away with murder. He gives them people to kill… he is responsible for people’s lives being destroyed…

 _Why_? That’s all Makoto keeps thinking about. Why would Byakuya do this? Makoto feels sick. He’s been with Byakuya ever since he was eighteen years old. Married him when he was twenty two… They planned to have a family together…

Makoto lets out a sob, his voice breaking. Tears slowly fall down his face.

But it’s quickly replaced by anger. How could he do this to him? Lie to him their entire lives? Makoto thought Byakuya was the head of a police force- a detective... He never questioned how Byakuya came to be so successful at such a young age, as he said his family just passed the company down to him…

He’s the complete opposite to a detective.

How could he lie so blatantly about being an officer of the law? Makoto helps people every single day of his life, and while he is, his husband is out destroying people’s lives…

It’s so messed up and sickening.

Makoto feels like his heart is about to explode, and his stomach is about to throw the entire contents of his dinner up. Dinner he ate by himself because he thought his husband was working on a case…

Makoto slams his hands against the floor and screams. How could he do this? _Lie_ to him?

Banging on his front door, brings him out of another hysterical fit. Makoto glances at the clock on the wall, ignoring the photograph of him, Byakuya and his parents and sister. _3:40am_. Makoto frowns, who would be coming here at this time?

He shakes his head. The better question is who would be coming here _at all_. They’re in France. Makoto doesn’t know anyone in France…

Maybe it’s Byakuya…

 _No_ … Byakuya would use a key… Besides, Makoto made it pretty clear he didn’t want Byakuya around him, and he knows Byakuya would respect that…

Fierce knocking continues. Bellowing around the empty mansion.

Makoto drags himself off of the floor, his knees and back aching from how long he’s been sitting on the carpeted floor of their lounge. Byakuya’s revelation has left Makoto feeling angry and distressed and hysterical. He loves him, and he doesn’t even know him anymore…

The banging on his door increases, and Makoto starts to get irritated. If this person hits his door _one more time_ …

He opens the door, which reveals a big built guy with strange hair. Makoto has never seen this person before in his life. What is he doing here at _3:45am_?

“Makoto Togami?” the guy said, his voice rumbling. Makoto’s about to reply when Byakuya’s last words to him echo in his mind, _Makoto, promise me: if anyone approaches you, you ignore them and get as far away from them as possible. Please. Despite what you think of me right now, I love you and if something happens to you I’ll die._

_If something happens to you I’ll die._

Byakuya was telling him that Makoto’s in danger, but he was too busy thinking about what Byakuya had said beforehand to ponder on it properly. Sure he responded to it, but he never thought about it properly… Now he _does_ think about it, what he said to his husband before he left was cruel… He basically said that Byakuya was a threat to him and he plans on never coming near him again.

His heart gives a painful squeeze at the realisation.

“Are you Makoto Togami?” the guy said forcefully. Makoto shakes his head, his attempt pathetic. “I think you are.”

On impulse, Makoto slams the door shut on the guy, catching his foot. He yells out in pain. Makoto’s aware he’s pushed the door open, but he’s already running for the kitchen. For his phone: to call his husband.

He closes the door on the kitchen, pushing a chair under the handle. He grabs his phone from the work top and calls Byakuya, whose number is on speed dial.

The guy is shouldering the door, the chair scraping across the floor. It won’t be long until the door is completely open.

It takes a few rings but Byakuya finally answers.

“Makoto, I-”

“Someone’s trying to kill me!” Makoto said hurriedly down the phone. Even though that may be a bit of an exaggeration, he didn’t know how to say ‘someone has broken into our house and is now chasing after me’ in a quick way.

The big built guy squeezes through the gap he made, and automatically Makoto runs to the other door of the kitchen.

“What? Makoto-” Makoto drops his phone in his haste to the other side of the kitchen. He can distinctively hear Byakuya’s voice from the phone, which is now on the floor. He jolts and goes to retrieve it but his chaser is now standing in the kitchen, making his way over to Makoto.

Deciding to leave the phone, Makoto runs to the hall, charging up the stairs. Now he wishes he had heard Byakuya out- listened to him. Demanded him to tell him why he did it. Why he’s the head of a criminal agency, maybe then he wouldn’t be alone right now. Byakuya could’ve protected him… he must have some sort of training, surely.

Makoto heads for their bedroom, slamming the door shut. He looks around, cursing himself. Why didn’t he head for the garden? He hates himself for not thinking of that. Then again, _why should he of thought of that_? He’s not used to being chased around his house by someone who probably wants to kill him.

He heads to the window, swinging it open. The drop is too high… But if he was to aim for the swimming pool… Although he’d end up injuring himself, probably his head. Then what?

The door of his bedroom smashes open. He whirls and sees the guy charging inside. Deciding anything is better than being strangled by him, Makoto climbs onto the window ledge and launches himself from the building. His heart flies up to his throat, preventing him from crying out in fear.

He breaks the water, sinking straight to the bottom. His whole body hits the floor with a pound, making him black out momentarily. He tries to swim upward, but he feels weak against the water. He knew this would happen.

Just as he thought he was going to start drowning, a hand grabs his arm; pulling him from the water. He was closer to the surface than he originally thought; he shouldn’t have given up so easily. Now he’s been caught. _How did that guy get down from the house so quickly though_?

Makoto kicks out at the person holding onto him.

“Stop! It’s okay. I’m going to help you.” Makoto stops struggling, his blurry vision focusing on a pale face. It’s a guy, Makoto notices, with white hair and striking eyes. “We’ve got to go!” he said quickly, hurling Makoto from the floor. Makoto feels a strong sense of vertigo and has to lean against the guy pulling him away from his house.

Makoto’s not sure what happened. One minute he was being dragged out of his gate, and the next he’s being put into a car. He numbly puts his seatbelt on as the car starts driving away quickly; the force pinning Makoto to his seat.

“I’ll drive to the nearest hospital,” the guy said, weaving in and out of roads effectively, he’s probably trying to loose whoever was just trying to kill him. Makoto focuses on the guy. His face is intent, his eyes manic; although he does notice that the guy is attractive. Anyone with eyes can see that.

Makoto places a hand to the back of his head. His hand comes away wet with blood; the red substance dripping from his fingers. He stares at his hand in horror. How badly is he hurt? He can’t feel any pain… he guesses that’s because of the adrenaline rush he’s gotten from being so close to being killed.

Well, probably killed.

“Who are you?” Makoto asked, the world no longer feeling like it’s spinning madly. “Do you work for my husband?”

“My names Nagito Komaeda,” the guy replied. “And no, I don’t work for anyone. Who’s your husband?” Makoto shifts in his seat, eyeing the guy. He seems legit. He did save Makoto’s life…

“Byakuya Togami,” Makoto responded. Komaeda’s eyes seem to darken at the mention of his name. Makoto’s not sure how to respond to that. “Do you know him?”

“Yes,” Komaeda replied, his voice hollow. Makoto frowns in confusion; he’s not getting a good vibe from him anymore… Despite what Makoto actually knows about Byakuya anymore, he knows his husband is not a cruel person. Makoto’s about to defend him when Komaeda speaks again. “My fiancé used to work for him…” Komaeda’s voice dies and so do his eyes. Realisation hits Makoto and he feels bad for assuming Komaeda is no good. He remembers Byakuya mentioning that… _someone who used to work for me stepped up. He made a deal with them, in exchange for keeping his fiancé, and everyone else safe, he went with them… God knows what they plan on doing with him…_

“I’m sorry about your fiancé…” Makoto said. Komaeda’s pale knuckles whiten as his grip on the steering wheel increases. He realises that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Its fine,” Komaeda said, even though his voice says it is not okay, and that if something happens to his fiancé it’ll never be okay again. Makoto looks at Komaeda’s left hand and sees his engagement ring. It’s beautiful. A light silver band, with three small diamonds encrusted into it. Simple yet beautiful. “We’re almost at the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Makoto said, looking away from his hands. Komaeda glances at him and nods slightly.

“No need to thank me.” _Oh but there is. You saved my life._

 

Komaeda had walked into the hospital and showed a police badge. Makoto had immediately been treated, his head needing stitches. Not many though.

Once the doctor had finished with his stitching, Makoto went into his room’s bathroom.

Staring absently at himself, he reaches for a pair of silver scissors, he took from the pile of equipment the doctor had left behind. Komaeda had gone to the canteen to get them some food, as Makoto can’t eat his painkillers without eating something beforehand. He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage to swallow anything- not with the constant sickening feeling in his stomach.

He raises the scissors to his head, snipping at a chunk of big messy brown hair. The strands disperse and fall towards the sink. He needs to make some change. Now that that guy Owada -Komaeda had said his name was- knows what he looks like, he’ll have to obscure his identity slightly; his big messy hair has to go.

He cuts at his hair, trimming close to his head- but not too close that his scalp is visible. He leaves his ahodge how it is. Togami loves that about his hair...

Makoto wets some tissue and wipes at his neck, removing any stray pieces of hair. He doesn’t bother drying his skin, he’s already sodden wet from how he jumped in the pool. At the memory Makoto shivers, only now realising how cold he is.

“Togami?” Komaeda’s voice filters through to him. He leaves the scissors on the sink and exits the bathroom. Komaeda’s standing by the bed, holding a plastic carrier bag. He looks up and nods at him. “Nice hair.”

“You too,” Makoto commented, seeing that Komaeda has tied his hair up into a ponytail; a few strands escaping and framing his face. “Call me Makoto. You don’t need to be so formal, you saved my life at the end of the day…” Komaeda nods, knowing the real reason. Saying his last name just reminds him of Byakuya, someone he doesn’t recognise anymore.

“I got the box of painkillers from the doctor,” Komaeda said. “We’d best go now. It’s only a matter of time before Owada finds us,” he said. Makoto jogs to catch up with Komaeda as he exits the room.

“How can he find us?” Makoto muttered, not saying it loudly in case a doctor hears and gets suspicious.

“You didn’t land into that pool gracefully…” Komaeda trailed off. A shock of pain shoots through his head at the memory… Of course, Owada had obviously watched him fall; a hospital is the first place he’d look… well, that’s if the guy is smart enough to do that. “I got a friend of mine to make a booking for us at the closest hotel, which was a hotel down a road called _Boulevard de Grenelle_ ,” Komaeda said. “Next door is a clothing shop. We’ll get some clothes before going in.”

“Right,” Makoto said. “Then what?”

“Then I’m going after Owada. This time I won’t let him get away.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of rape.

Nagito changes into a pair of sweat pants he brought from the store. He needed something relatively comfortable to sleep in. He also bought a pair of jeans and a simple white top to change into tomorrow. For Makoto, the same.

He unlocks the bathroom door and enters the bedroom, untangling his damp hair. Makoto is sitting perched on one of the single beds in the room, looking lost in thought. He seems to be quite out of it. Nagito suspects that’s because of Togami. He had asked if he could ring him and say he’s OK, but Nagito said no. They can’t risk being traced. He’s pretty sure Monokuma’s keeping tabs on the organisation, which means they could be traced by Togami’s phone if they ring him. And he can’t risk that. They’re safe at the moment, and as much as Nagito doesn’t want to: he has to sleep. He has to keep his energy levels up, otherwise he won’t be able to do anything- which means Hajime will be in increasing danger.

“What’s the plan? How are you going to get to Owada?” Makoto asked. Nagito lays down onto his bed, noting how cold it is. How cold it’s going to be without Hajime… “Komaeda?” he looks up at his name, remembering Makoto’s question.

“I know where he lives,” Nagito replied. Makoto frowns but doesn’t question it. “Anyway, I’m going to attempt to sleep.” Nagito climbs under the duvet, puffing up his pillows. He lays his head down, closing his eyes. He soon snaps them open again, as the image of Hajime being beaten is etched into the back of his eyelids.

“I want to help,” Makoto said. Nagito looks across to him, trying to forget the image.

“It’s too dangerous Makoto-”

“I don’t care!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been kept in the dark for so long! I was almost killed tonight! I want to help. I’m not useless. And you could need me.” Nagito ponders his words. If he was in Makoto’s position, he would want to help as well. Almost being killed, learning your husband isn’t who he says he is…

“Okay,” Nagito said, and Makoto seems surprised. “I’m not going to argue with you. If you want to help me, you can help. Just know that this is not going to be safe.”

“I think I learned that first-hand, don’t you think?” he replied. Nagito nods, and then rolls over.

“Go to sleep,” he muttered. He closes his eyes, squinting against the replay. He imagines other images instead…

“Goodnight Komaeda,” Makoto said. “Thank you for saving my life.” Nagito would’ve said ‘no need to thank me’ but he can’t bring himself to speak. Not trusting himself to say anything; scared he’ll start sobbing. Hajime...

~

It was roughly 7am when Komaeda woke up, screaming his voice raw. Makoto didn’t know what to think of it. He shot upright, his heart beating erratically in his chest; he thought something had happened while he was sleeping. But that was not the case. He had looked across to Komaeda and as he did the latter bolted up right, sweating. Makoto had laid back down and pretended he hadn’t just witnessed him having a nightmare. One that had him screaming.

About 9am, Komaeda had gotten up and showered. While he did, Makoto changed into the new clothing that was bought and ordered some breakfast from the Room Service menu.

By the time the food arrived, Komaeda had come out fully clothed.

They ate in silence. It was a painful eating. Both of them didn’t want to eat anything, because of the constant sick feeling in their stomachs; but they had to. They had to keep their strength up.

Makoto took this silence to think about Byakuya. How he must be tearing his hair out. The phone call was the last time they spoke. And Makoto guesses his husband went to their house, only to find it empty. If he had gone to the garden, he probably would’ve found traces of Makoto’s blood by the pool, from how he had lain on his back, his wound oozing scarlet onto the ground.

The thought makes Makoto feel a deep uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He glances across to Komaeda, who is eating slowly; his eyes fixated on nothing. He looks completely out of it. His eyes are crazed, like he’s having an internal rant. It’s… concerning, to say the least.

“Komaeda,” Makoto said. He turns his attention to him. Even though Komaeda is looking in his direction, Makoto feels like he’s looking through him- not at him. “Are we going straight to Owada’s?”

“Yes,” Komaeda said, his voice sounds normal, and his eyes and face are slowly fading back to their normal expression: calm, innocent looking- open. But despite this, there is an impression of exhaustion and vexation. It’s subtle, but easily seen by Makoto- who often relies on the expressions of people to know whether they are true are not.

“What if he’s not in?”

“Then we wait for him,” Komaeda answered. “Take a look around his flat, maybe there’ll be something in there that will tell me where Hajime is,” he added. Makoto assumes Hajime is Komaeda’s fiancé. He did scream his name in his sleep. “You can make a phone call to Togami on the payphone outside this place once we leave,” Komaeda said, and Makoto’s heart starts hammering in his chest. He has so much he wants to say to his husband, but not over a phone- and what he wants to say will need more than a few coins put into a machine. “But you can’t tell him that you’re with me, or that we’re going to Owada’s place- or anything. Togami’s phone is most likely being monitored so anything you say has to be vague.”

“Yeah, I know,” Makoto said, placing a painkiller into his mouth.

“Actually, there’s something we should do before going to Owada’s,” Komaeda said. Makoto gives him a questioning look, drinking some water and swallowing hard. He hates taking pills, he struggles to swallow them without gagging.

“What’s that?” Makoto asked, before downing the rest of his drink.

“I’m going to buy some tracking devices,” Komaeda said. “I’m going to pull them apart and alter them so they’re small. If something happens and we get separated: swallow one.”

“That’s a good idea,” Makoto said thoughtfully. “How do you know to do this sort of thing? You said you don’t work for my husband…”

“I wasn’t a part of Togami’s organisation,” Komaeda stated. “I was a part of another one.” Makoto feels goosebumps prickle his skin. He refused to be near his own husband because of what he learned- this guy is no better! He’s a killer. Just like his husband. “I was assigned to assassinate someone a part of Togami’s organisation- that someone turned out to be everything to me.” Makoto’s thought process stops. He looks at Komaeda properly. His face is grave and full of anguish. The way he’s legs are drawn toward him, and his hands locked together, resting over his heart: he looks so self-preserved and broken.

“What happened? You didn’t kill them in the end?” he asked, pushing thoughts of this guy being a murderer from his mind. He has to remember: this guy saved his life…

“I tried to kill him three times,” Komaeda said, his voice strained. “The third time I heard him on the phone to Togami, asking to leave the organisation- in order to protect me!” he exclaimed the last bit, his voice hysterical. “Can you believe it? He wanted to protect someone who was trying to kill him!”

“But you didn’t kill him,” Makoto said. Komaeda’s manic eyes dim and he looks at Makoto like he’d just slapped him across the face. Makoto doesn’t ask why he’s looking at him like that, afraid if he even breathes Komaeda will break down or something.

“That’s what Hajime says to me…” Komaeda eventually said, his eyes leaving Makoto’s. “I don’t understand how he can love me… how he could ever want to be with someone like me…” he looks down at his left hand, and gently touches his engagement ring with his index finger. “I’d die for him. And I wished that’s what had happened yesterday, instead of him sacrificing himself to save me.” Makoto doesn’t reply to that. What is there to say? Even though Komaeda has not directly said it, he loves his fiancé, and it’s raw and beautiful and –above all- real.

“Why did you join an organisation?” Makoto asked. He doesn’t understand why people would revert to that life. Maybe, in Komaeda’s answer, he’ll find elements of why Byakuya may have done it. He may realise something he already knew but never pondered because it’s a part of his husband he’s never seen in the light.

“I…” Komaeda shakes his head, and Makoto chides himself. He’s so impulsive. He knows he shouldn’t pry into Komaeda’s past- he doesn’t even know the guy. He just feels like he has to know and understand everyone… it’s not a redeeming quality of his…

“You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry,” Makoto said hastily, his mind going to Byakuya. “I just… I just wanted some insight as to why Togami may have chosen that pathway…”

“Everyone has their own reasons,” Komaeda said. Makoto looks up and meets his eyes. “I’m sure you already know,” he added. Makoto knows that’s true- but doesn’t know what aspect of Byakuya’s life tells him the answer…“When I was thirteen I was violated.” Makoto stares at him in shock and horror, how can Komaeda just blurt that out to someone he hasn’t even known for a day? “I’m telling you this because it will help you understand, not just my life decision, but other people’s as well.” Komaeda breathes in deeply, wrapping his arms around himself.

“After I was raped, I kind of just floated through life aimlessly- hoping to die… It was only when I met Hajime that I realised that life is worth living; that there is meaning in life. In myself. He opened my eyes to the world, and for the first time I didn’t just hear the birds singing: I understood their song. I started seeing life in colour. I found warmth- warmth I didn’t know existed. Hajime showed me what it’s like to feel. He taught me that the world, even though it may have ugly people –like the people who abused me- in it, it’s still beautiful. And that beauty overwrites the awful- but only if you allow it to. He made me realise that how I used to live my life was all wrong… but it was the only salvation I had. If the leader of the organisation hadn’t of been there, I’d be dead- I would never have met Hajime. I went to the leader of my organisation and asked if they would let me go- and they did. They told me to go and live my life. So I did.”

Makoto adverts his eyes, letting what Komaeda said sink in… Komaeda loves his fiancé. A lot. But if there is anything he learned from what he’s just been told, it’s that without the help from someone else Komaeda’s not sure how his life would’ve panned out…

But the underlying meaning in what he said- even though small: it’s that if it wasn’t for the leader of his organisation he would’ve been dead. And even though that doesn’t make killing people and ruining other’s lives OK, Makoto now understands why Byakuya does what he does. Without Byakuya, the people that work for him would’ve been lost to the world- some of them dead and in prison.

“Now do you get it?” Komaeda asked. Makoto looks up and nods. He understands perfectly. But that doesn’t mean he agrees with it. “You don’t have to agree… Just understand.” Komaeda said, as if reading Makoto’s mind. “Now. We have things to do.” Makoto watches as Komaeda gets from the bed and heads towards his ankle boots.

Makoto had always wanted to help people. That was the purpose he gave himself. And that’s what he’s going to do. He’s going to help Komaeda get his fiancé back, and then he’s going to help Byakuya- and then he’s going to help everyone else.

~

Nagito left Makoto at the payphone outside the B&B while he goes into the store to get some supplies. The police badge makes things easier: no one questions anything.

He picked up a pack of tracking devices and a few burner phones. He paid at the register and then asked to see the CCTV footage for the shop.

“Thanks,” Nagito said to the shopkeeper, as they leave him alone in the CCTV operating room. He clicks on the files leading to the current time. He erases the footage of today. He doesn’t want anyone getting access to his whereabouts. The CCTV footage is one way of getting that.

The nightmare he had from earlier pops into his mind. Hajime being tortured. Nagito was running towards him- unable to get to him, to protect him. He felt so disgusted and furious with himself, how in capable he was- unable to reach his fiancé in need… Unable to save his lover…

Nagito shakes his head violently. No more wallowing in depression- he has to keep moving forward. That’s all he can do.

 

Nagito walks down a deserted alleyway, looking around him. He needs another car, one that’s not on the CCTV footage of driving around all sorts of roads during the middle of the night.

He walks over to a black ford and tries the handle. Locked. He suspects most of the cars are going to be locked, but he’s going to try most of them down this road; not feeling like breaking into a car in broad day light.

As he rounds a corner, someone grabs him, yanking him and throwing him against a wall. His back slams into it, his head thumping against the concrete brick, the feeling echoing around in his skull. He instantly brings an arm up, lodging it between his neck and his attacks arm that was aiming for his jaw. His eyes focus on his assailants face. Nekomaru.

“Orders from Monokuma,” Nekomaru said. “Nothing personal.”

“What about Hajime’s deal?” Nagito asked through gritted teeth.

“That deal stood when you wasn’t going around trying to find his whereabouts,” he replied, before moving his arm; his elbow catching Nagito in the jaw. His neck clicks and his head turns away. Nagito brings a knee up, hitting Nekomaru where the sun don’t shine. “Fuck!” Nekomaru yelled. Nagito shoves him away. If he hadn’t of kneed him in the balls, Nagito suspects that he wouldn’t have fallen down so easily.

He runs for the black ford and smashes the window in. He jumps into the driver’s seat and quickly hotwires it.

Ignoring the burning of the tips of his fingers, Nagito drives away; skidding around a corner and leaving Nekomaru limping after him.

 

Makoto lets out a deep breath and dials Byakuya’s mobile number. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say to him- he has so much to say he doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t have enough time to say everything he wants to say; ask the questions he wants to ask. He just wants all of this to stop. He wants to be back home in Japan, in their home. Everything was so nice and simple then.

“Hello?” Byakuya’s deep, stormy voice answers on other end, and Makoto’s voice stops at his throat. Hearing his voice- he’s forgotten everything he wanted to say. “Hello? Who is this?” Byakuya demanded, and Makoto can hear the impatience in it. If it wasn’t for rustling on the other end, indicating that he may be going to hang up- Makoto would’ve stood there, phone limp in his hand, not saying anything at all.

“Byakuya!” Makoto shouted.

“Makoto?” Byakuya’s voice was instant. “Makoto you’re OK,” he said, his voice a sigh of relief. “Where are you now? I’ll come and get you and-”

“You can’t,” Makoto said, gripping the phone tightly. “It’s too dangerous. You’re safe from being hurt. If I come to you I’ll be jeopardising that,” Makoto said, keeping it vague. Not mentioning how he knows this because of Komaeda. Not mentioning that he knows about the deal between Komaeda’s fiancé and the organisation trying to kill him. At the moment Byakuya’s safe, if Makoto goes to him he’ll be putting him in danger; because he knows that Byakuya will do anything to keep him safe. Which means getting hurt himself.

“Makoto this is absurd,” Byakuya said, his voice teetering on explosion. “Tell me where you are right now.” Makoto places his forehead against the phone box, closing his eyes. He listens to his husband’s voice, his eyes stinging. He wants to go to him- he does. But he can’t. Not just to keep him safe, but because he can’t face him yet. “Makoto please, you have to tell me where you are. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking, but know that I care about you. Please, tell me where you are.”

Makoto straightens up and hardens his face. His misery turning into assertion. “I can’t. I just wanted you to know that I’m alright. I’m fine. I’ll see you soon,” Makoto said.

“Mak-”

“Byakuya,” Makoto said, cutting him off.

“Yes?” he asked in anticipation, sounding like he’s hoping for Makoto to change his mind about not telling him his whereabouts.

He takes in a deep breath; three words caught on his tongue. He can’t bring himself to say them- not to someone he doesn’t know anymore.

He places the phone on the hook and walks out the phone booth. Cool air whips at his face, and he’d only noticed there were stray tears dampening his skin until then.

A car pulling up in front of him, soon snaps him out of his daze. The passenger door swings open and Komaeda yelling at him to get in is heard over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

He complies and jumps into the front passenger seat; before his door is even shut properly, Komaeda is driving down the road ahead like their lives depend on it- and that’s when he realises that they probably do.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Descriptions of violence and slight gore.

Screaming of his name is the only thing Hajime can hear. It’s distant and echoing inside his head. Nagito… His precious Nagito… His beautiful Nagito…

Hajime stares at his hands. The room, or should he say cell, is pitch black. The floor is cold and stone. He’s surrounded by another three walls and black metal bars in front of him. He can’t help thinking it’s like he’s in a prison cell.

A creak, indicating someone is coming down the stairs. He remembers, even though being slightly disorientated from the beating he sustained, being dragged down a flight of stairs; the light fading as he got lower, and being thrown into this prison cell.

A key turning in a lock, grating against the rust as it turns, piques his attention. He shifts uncomfortably on the ground. He was kicked mostly at his lower body. As far as he can tell he has no severe injuries, he suspects just a lot of bruises.

“Hinata!” Monokuma’s shrill voice is the first thing that greets him, as a light comes into the room. So it’s day time now. He guessed that was the case, but being down here in the dark -alone- it’s like time doesn’t exist. “Man, have we got a lot to talk about,” he said. A key rattles in the lock of his cell. The bars swing in the frame, squeaking. He’s yanked from the ground and dragged out of his cell.

He’s pulled to his right, further into whatever room he’s in. He doesn’t have time question anything, as he’s pushed into a chair and immediately strapped to it. He doesn’t even bother to try and escape. There would be no point. He’s out numbered for a start, and even he did –somehow- manage to get away, where would he go? He doesn’t even know where he is.

“Now, there are a lot of questions I want answered, but first: I thought I’d give you motive to answer them,” Monokuma said. A light comes on, glowing bright orange. Hajime allows his eyes to adjust, resting them upon Monokuma; glaring at him darkly. “Oh! Scary face!” he cackled. Hajime winces at his words. That’s what Nagito says whenever he pulls that face…

The sound of clicking makes him refocus. Monokuma is clicking some buttons on a large black TV. It’s an old one, the ones on wheels. The type of TV that children used to get excited to see in their classroom, because that meant they’d be watching a film. Hajime knows he won’t be watching a film, and he’s certainly not excited.

“Earlier today,” Monokuma started, white noise appearing on the TV screen. “One of the people who work for me, bumped into your feisty fiancé.” Hajime starts, jerking his hands against their restraints, and twisting his ankles around in the ropes binding them against the chair legs.

“What did you do to him?” Hajime seethed, his eyes darkening. Monokuma lets out a hysterical laugh, adding to Hajime’s anger. If he finds out anything has happened to him, he’ll rip his own limbs off in order to get out of this chair and rip Monokuma’s throat out with his teeth like the animal Monokuma is.

“I did nothing,” Monokuma said, his smile remaining. He clicks a button on the TV and CCTV footage shows on screen. Hajime watches the split screen. On one side it has Nekomaru, waiting behind a brick wall. On the other screen it has Nagito walking down a road. Hajime’s heart starts beating hard and fast in his chest. He wishes he could get out of this chair and destroy everything and everyone in this room. “Pay attention now, this is where it gets good. I even added subtitles for you,” Monokuma said. Hajime glares at him with disgust before resting his eyes on his fiancé.

Hajime almost loses his mind with anger as Nagito is pinned against a wall. He puts an arm up in order to stop Nekomaru from holding him against the wall by his neck. Hajime watches with intense eyes, his whole being standing on edge with anticipation and fury.

At the bottom of the screen words start appearing:

Nekomaru: _Orders from Monokuma. Nothing personal._

Hinata’s-feisty-fiancé: _What about Hajime’s deal?_

Nekomaru: _That deal stood when you wasn’t going around trying to find his whereabouts._

After that, Nekomaru twists his elbow, getting Nagito in the jaw. Hajime struggles against his restraints, gritting his teeth so hard he can feel his jaw muscles starting to ache.

Nagito brings a knee up, kneeing him _where the fucking sun don’t shine_ , and then shoves him away; Nekomaru sprawling across the floor.

He runs away, his long legs carrying him down the road faster than any car could drive. He smashes a window in and jumps in- hotwiring it quicker than Hajime could even comprehend and speeding away.

The camera then cuts to outside a B&B, a guy Hajime doesn’t recognise comes out of a phone booth and stands on the curb. Hajime watches as Nagito pulls up and throws the passenger door open. The guy flies into the car, and before he could close his door properly, Nagito drives away.

The CCTV footage ends there.

Hajime stares at the blank screen, what he saw sinking in. Nagito’s OK. He got away. He’s safe. He’s OK. Nagito, his wonderful Nagito, is OK; safe; _he got away_.

“He’s trying to find you,” Monokuma said, walking over to him, removing a paw glove. “It’s our job to make sure he doesn’t. So you’re going to tell me how smart he is.”

Hajime smirks at Monokuma and said, “Smarter than you.” Monokuma’s smile fades and he lands a punch across Hajime’s jaw. It sends a throbbing pain down his neck, but apart from that it was quite weak. Hajime turns back to him, and smiles slightly. “Nagito is very smart. Smarter than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s so smart he’s lethal.”

“That makes him a threat,” Monokuma said. “He needs to be killed.” Hajime’s smile fades, and he realises now that what he just saw on that TV could happen again; and Nagito might not be so lucky next time. “When he’s caught, he’s going to be killed. And it’s going to be slow, and painful and it’s going to be filmed. So you can watch it!” Hajime lunges forward, his eyes red with fury. His restraints bite into his skin cutting into his flesh as he lurches forward towards Monokuma.

“ _Don’t you fucking touch him_ ,” Hajime uttered, livid with maddening hatred and white hot anger that burns him from the inside out. He spits at Monokuma, his disgust and resentment making him act uncivil- but he doesn’t care.

Monokuma wipes at his face and then punches Hajime again. His face turns away, his lip cut. Followed is a sharp pain in his leg. He bites his tongue, refusing to succumb to the pain caused by the small knife buried in his leg.

“Tut, tut.” Monokuma leans towards him and presses down on the knife, sending it deeper into Hajime’s flesh. “What would Nagito say?” Hajime head-butts him, sending him staggering back. His vision blurs, and his forehead has split but it was worth it.

“Say his name again and I’ll do a lot worse,” Hajime threatened. He’s not sure how, but he’ll find a way. Maybe once he’s being dragged back to his cell, maybe he could get away, kill everyone; make Monokuma’s death slow and painful, just like he threatened to make Nagito’s.

“Hinata,” Monokuma said, wiping the blood from his forehead. “I was going to ask you a set of questions and, if you were cooperative, I was going to kill you quickly, for being so helpful. But for that, I’m afraid not,” he said, his eyes darkening and a devilish smile returning. “Now, I’m going to let my comrades have some fun with you, and then throw you back into the cell for a few days. Leave your wounds untreated. Leave you alone in the darkness, on that cold concrete floor, until you’re withering and begging for me to release you.” Monokuma laughs and rips the knife from Hajime’s leg. He winces, but doesn’t cry out. He refuses to show Monokuma that what he’s doing is causing him pain. Even if it obviously is. “Then after your couple of days, we’ll see if you’re ready to talk again. In the meantime, just know that we’re hunting down your beau. And it’s only a matter of time before we find him. And when we do, his death will be so slow and so painful and so cruel, that even once dead- he’ll still feel the pain we caused.”

Hajime breathes harshly, wrenching against his restraints. He’s about to speak, say something immoral, but he’s knocked around the head.

Everything is a blur after that. His restraints are cut and he’s thrown to the floor. After that he’s just numb as he gets beaten. The pain is a reminder that it’s happening to him, and while it is: Nagito is safe.

It’s his only mind set. It stops him from going insane.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy tomorrow, so I'm updating now :)

“What if Owada’s in? What if he’s not in?” Makoto asked, as he and Nagito climb the stairs to Owada’s flat. _No. 52_.

“He’s not in, his motorbike is missing from its parking space,” Nagito said. “But while we’re here waiting, we can look around.”

“How are we going to get into his house?” Makoto asked. Nagito raises an eyebrow up at him, and Makoto ducks his head in shame. “Of course…” he muttered. “I just won’t look as you break into his house-”

“Want to say that any louder?” Nagito hissed under his breath, silencing Makoto. “I don’t think the police department heard over the road.” Makoto sighs and turns his back to Nagito, as he starts to pick the lock of Owada’s flat door.

“This goes against everything I believe in…” Makoto muttered. Nagito rolls his eyes, hearing a click. The flat door opens ajar. He immediately enters the room.

His flat is quite large. The lounge is long and reaches from one side of the flat to the other, only leaving a small space for a kitchen and a bedroom, which Nagito presumes has an on-suite, as there are no bathrooms in site.

“This is so wrong,” Makoto said, looking around feverishly. Nagito turns to him, feeling slightly irritated now.

“I told you not to come,” he said simply. He knows it’s unfair saying that, considering everything Makoto has been through the last eight hours, and if he had left him to fend for himself: he would’ve been dead by now for sure.

“I know… But I want to help,” Makoto said, determination replacing reluctance. Nagito nods at him and then gestures to a desk, which has drawers that seem to be open. It looks like Owada had opened them up, grabbed what he needed, and then left in a hurry.

“You can start by sifting through those drawers,” Nagito said, walking towards the bedroom. “I’m going to check his room.”

“Okay, I’ll call if I find anything,” Makoto said, making his way over to the small study area.

 

Owada’s bedroom is a mess. His bedsheets are thrown askew across the bed, and his floor is littered with clothing. And Nagito thought Hajime could be bad- he needs to do some serious spring cleaning.

Nagito heads towards his wardrobe, opening it up. Inside are some files. Feeling his heart quicken in anticipation, he grabs them and lays them out on the bed, sifting through the paper.

They’re files on members of the organisation… _how did they get this information_? Nagito was sure in thinking that Fujusaki made their records un-hackable... Then again, Monokuma did work for the organisation, so he probably knew how to get access to the files… If that is how they got this information, then Fujisaki needs to change the system, make it impossible for them to get any more… at the moment it doesn’t look like they have anything on Hajime… Togami probably destroyed anything to do with him when he left…

Nagito gets out his burner phone and calls Fujisaki.

After a few rings, Nagito almost gives up. But a voice soon filters through, light and happy and relieved.

“Komaeda! I’m so glad, I was worried,” she said, her voice a breath of relief. “I didn’t hear from you after making that hotel booking. Is everything OK?”

“Yes I’m fine, thanks,” Nagito said, _except for the constant pain in my heart over Hajime’s absence_. “How’s everything on your end?”

“OK at the moment,” Fujisaki said. “Kazuichi is extremely worried, after seeing you were gone. I haven’t said I’m in contact with you. I presume you don’t want anyone to know where you are and what you’re doing.”

“No, that’s right, I don’t,” Nagito replied. “They’ll only try and stop me. Try and ‘reason’ with me. I won’t find Hajime by siting around doing nothing.” Nagito leaves the files where they are and heads back to the wardrobe. _There must be_ something _useful here_ … “Fujisaki you should probably change the security database system. It seems Monokuma has managed to get information on you and some of the others.”

“Right, I’ll try and make it more secure,” she said, and Nagito can hear her typing away on her keyboard as usual. “Anything else?” she asked.

“Yes actually…” Nagito said, suddenly thinking of something that could lead him right to Hajime. “I was attacked by Nekomaru earlier today, on a road called _Rue Humblot_. Could you access the CCTV footage and track where he went?”

“Of course!” Fujisaki said, sounding like she understood Nagito’s reason for asking. _He could lead me straight to Hajime_ , Nagito thought, his heart beating hard in his chest. Perhaps he’s closer to finding his fiancé than he thought… maybe the CCTV footage will lead him right there…

“Komaeda!” Makoto called from the lounge, tearing Nagito’s mind elsewhere. He quickly leaves Owada’s room, entering back into the large lounge, after saying he’ll be in touch with Fujisaki. Makoto is standing by Owada’s desk, a laptop open on a word document. Frowning, he stands beside him and fixates his eyes on the screen. “Your fiancé’s first name doesn’t happen to be Hajime… does it?” Makoto asked, his voice sounding hesitant, like he’s not sure whether it’s a good thing there’s information about Hajime on his laptop, or not.

Nagito reads the sentences, the words flying around his mind and refusing to process properly. He has to read the paragraph a few times before it starts to make sense to him.

_29 th February_

_SO: Hajime Hinata has sustained a sprained ankle and wrist. He has multiple bruises on his legs and torso. He has a flesh wound on his leg: pieced with a small knife. Clean cut. He has a cut on his cheek, when he got it is unknown. He also has a purpling bruise on his left eye. Orders from Monokuma are not to break or fracture any bones as that is a last resort…_

_MO: It’s fucking cruel… I’m not sure about the others: but I don’t want to be a part of this. It has gone too far… Monokuma is fucking nuts. What he did today to Hinata, not physically, but emotionally, with the CCTV footage of his fiancé: was just damn right sick._

“I think it’s one of those anonymous chat forums…” Nagito murmured, staring absently at the blinking curser. If it is, then that means what it says on the screen is true. Hajime is being hurt… And the CCTV footage… was that of him being attacked by Nekomaru? If that’s the case then he must have seen him get away… unless Monokuma somehow manipulated the video… like he does with everything.

“Does this mean Owada doesn’t agree with what’s being done?” Makoto said, sounding hopeful. “He might help us. If he doesn’t agree with what Monokuma’s doing: that means he can help us!”

Nagito doesn’t raise his head as he said, “It doesn’t work like that.” His voice was hollow and full of trembling fits of hysteria. “Your hope and optimism is admirable, but unfortunately Owada’s death is more likely than him helping us.”

“You… you don’t know that for sure,” Makoto said quietly. Nagito would have argued, had the door of Owada’s flat not opened. They both turn, Makoto like a little kid been caught drawing on the table, and Nagito like he’s about to kill someone. Which, depending on how this conversation goes, is probably what’s going to happen.

“What are you doing in my flat?” Owada shouted, slamming his flat door shut. He looks at Makoto and squints. “I know you,” he said, frowning in confusion. Makoto had cut his hair since Owada tried to –whatever it was he was going to do to him- so Nagito guesses that’s why he’s looking so confused _. Not the smartest person is he_? If he can’t figure it out.

“Where is Monokuma keeping my fiancé?” Nagito asked hostile, bringing Owada’s attention to him. “I know you know!” Nagito yelled, pointing to the laptop on his desk with a harsh whip of his arm. “So tell me where he is, or I swear I will make you wish you never came in here.” Nagito takes a threatening step forward, and casts his dark stare in Owada’s direction.

“I can’t tell you,” Owada said, looking downward and putting a hand to the back of his neck, as if what Nagito asked was something awkward. He’s acting like they’re thirteen and playing truth or dare and Nagito just asked him who his crush was. “Monokuma’ll kill me,” he muttered. The way he said it was as if his death is inevitable. Which it is. Because either way he’s going to die. Whether it be by Nagito’s hand, or Monokuma’s- if he doesn’t tell him where Hajime is: his blood is going to be spilt.

“We can help you,” Makoto said, walking to stand beside Nagito. “We can. But you’ve got to help us in return, otherwise we can’t get anywhere,” Makoto added. Nagito’s not sure whether he agrees with what Makoto is saying. This guy helped Monokuma take Hajime away… He doesn’t want to protect someone like that. “We won’t let Monokuma get to you. I promise.” Owada looks up at that, his eyebrows drawing together, like something Makoto said had struck home… It gives Nagito a bit of hope, perhaps things don’t have to get messy after all.

“What can you do for me?” Owada suddenly shouted, his low voice ripping through any hope Nagito just had. “You can’t even stop Monokuma from getting to yourselves!” He turns his head, his manic eyes meeting Nagito’s. “Where’s your fiancé? With Monokuma! That’s where he is. And you couldn’t protect him!” Nagito tenses at his words. Hajime being dragged away flashing across his mind in fragmented images. “What makes you think you can protect _me_ from him? You can’t even protect someone you _care_ about!”

“ _Shut up_!” Nagito screamed. “Shut up, shut up, _shut up_ , _shut up_ , _SHUT UP_!” Nagito grabs fistfuls of his hair, breathing heavily. The images continue to flood his thoughts, images he’s been desperately burying. Hajime being kicked- beaten, make Nagito tremble. The image of him being wrenched away, the van driving away, is like a constant yank on his heart; an excruciating pain that won’t go away... Words filter his mind, swimming around his head; _sprained ankle and wrist… multiple bruises on his legs and torso… flesh wound on his leg… clean cut… purpling bruise on his left eye…_ Memories of Hajime protecting him, reassuring him that nothing will happen to him penetrate his mind, making it bleed unforgivingly with words said in his low but soft voice _; I’ll condemn myself to death if it means keeping you safe… I’ll do anything, anything. Just don’t hurt him, I’m begging you… We’ll be back… Things will be OK…_ Nagito can’t grasp what’s reality and what’s in his mind, it’s a whirling tornado of thoughts, memories, images, nightmares, words, voices- _you're amazing, and everything you_ do _is amazing… Nagito baby… I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…_

“ _Where is he_?” Nagito screeched over the noise in his head, silencing it and making images explode and scatter back into the cracks of his messed up mind. He lunges forward, covering the distance quicker than an Olympic athlete trained for sprint. Owada’s face starts to contort into shock, but Nagito reaches him before he can lash out.

He clamps a hand around his throat, making Owada stumble back until his back is pressed against the flat door; pinned there by Nagito holding his neck and slowly closing his windpipe in on itself. He grabs Nagito’s wrist, squeezing it hard, but Nagito doesn’t even flinch: just increases his grip.

“ _Where is he_?” Nagito repeated darkly, his words sharp and hopefully piercing into Owada. “I won’t ask again: I’ll just crush your windpipe,” he seethed out through clenched teeth.

“Komaeda stop!” Makoto shouted appearing at his side, and instantly grabbing his arm. “Stop this! You are not like Monokuma. You are not a killer! Don’t let him turn you into one.” He tugs on Nagito’s arm, looking at him with anxious eyes and a fearful face. Nagito tightens his grip slightly, making Owada choke and gasp for air. Makoto pushes his shoulder with all his strength, but Nagito keeps his feet planted firmly.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Nagito said, his voice distant to even his own ears. “I _am_ a killer.”

“No you are not!” Makoto suddenly exploded. “You are not a killer. Sure, you used to be- but that’s the past! You’ve moved on from that. You are not that person anymore!” he shouted, almost like he’s pleading with Nagito- who is too far gone to really listen. “You told me yourself that you’re not that person anymore; that you moved on- that you finally understand life. Well this is a part of life! Facing your enemy and deciding to be the better person!” Makoto squeezes Nagito’s arm, and it brings him back slightly- his words almost register. Makoto is right. He has moved on…

Nagito quickly dismisses that thought and strangles Owada. He can’t believe he almost gave in then.

“Komaeda stop this!” Makoto shouted hysterically. “I won’t let you do this! How would your fiancé react if he found out you’d killed someone for him?” Nagito tenses, his breathing stopping. _Hajime_ … He’d be crushed… He’d blame himself… If Nagito was to kill Owada, Hajime would blame himself… _he’d_ … _blame_ … _him…self_ …

Looking at Makoto, Nagito releases Owada’s neck and steps back; holding his wrist. He stares at his hand. He almost killed someone… he almost reverted back to who he used to be… after Hajime had made him forget… made him think he was worthy of something more than this… He can’t give into that despair he just felt… not after all the hope Hajime has given him over the past three years…

“Will you help us?” Nagito asked Owada, who is rubbing his red throat and breathing heavily. Makoto gives Nagito a surprised smile at his question.

“Yes…” Owada breathed. “Just don’t strangle me -again,” he coughed.

~

“Monokuma has Hinata kept in a basement in a town house,” Owada said, creating images of Hajime in a dark cold room, shivering and starving with cuts and bruises masking his body- not knowing when he’s next beating is due. Nagito bites a finger, trying to direct the pain from his heart to somewhere else.

“Where is this town house?” Makoto asked.

“I don’t know.”

Taking his bit finger away from his mouth, Nagito frowns and asked harshly, “What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? You must know. You’ve been there!” He’s angry, but also perplexed and astonished. _How does he not know where Hajime is_? Does he think Nagito is stupid? That he wouldn’t see the obvious flaw in his response?

“Do ya’ really think Monokuma is stupid enough to let us know where he is?” Owada said, each word spaced out, as if trying to emphasise how ‘stupid’ Nagito’s question was. “We travel in the back of the van with no windows. I couldn’t tell ya where it was.” Nagito feels his stomach turn, making him feel sick. He glances at his bandaged knuckles… he remembers that van clearly. Large and dark -dark as the basement Hajime is probably kept in- with blacked out windows and big wheels, with no number plate- so he can’t even track it.

He sighs, scratching at the bridge of his nose, praying that Fujisaki comes back to him with something helpful. He throws a hand out in exasperation and said, “Then what can you give us? Because you don’t know where Hajime is, so what is keeping me from killing you?”

“Please don’t strangle me again,” Owada winced. Makoto rolls his eyes, which Nagito feels is out of character for him- then again, Togami does it often.

“No one is strangling anyone,” Makoto assured, ruffling his short hair. Nagito can’t do anything to stop the tremor of his heart seeing that action. Hajime does that whenever he’s thinking or stressed- Makoto’s now short hair is only adding to his pain.

“Dude,” Owada said, bringing Nagito back. “You look like you’re gonna barf.” He pulls his lip back and looks at him wearily. Nagito lets out an impatient breath and pulls his hair back- tying it away from his face.

“Until Fujisaki gets back to me about the CCTV footage, _you_ -” Nagito points at Owada, making him flinch, “can tell us everything you know about Monokuma and this organisation.”


	11. Chapter 11

His wounds are a lot worse now. Before, he just had a lot of bruises, now his thigh is throbbing from the knife wound, sending pain up and down his entire leg; his lip has a tremor as blood clots at the surface of his skin; his chest aches and pulsates burning agony, he defiantly has some fractured ribs, maybe even a broken one; the cut on his forehead has left dry blood like streak marks down his face, and he can feel it crusting up every time his face screws up in pain.

Overall he feels like utter shit.

“Hey.” A whisper from somewhere momentarily takes away the silence caused ringing in his ears. He squints in the darkness, not seeing anything different. His eyes are well adjusted to the dark now, he can see almost everything. He finds it comforting but also discomforting… it just proves how long he’s been left to fester down there.

“How are you feeling?” comes the voice again, louder this time. Just above a whisper; it’s a low throatily voice.

“Am I hallucinating?” Hajime mumbled, his voice hoarse and cracked. It wouldn’t surprise him if it was true, his leg is probably infected- even if he hasn’t had the wound for long. God knows what one could catch in this place.

“Unfortunately not,” the person said, and at that moment a large figure appears in front of his cell. Hajime looks up groggily and see’s silver hair, darkened by the blackness in the room. He immediately feels like recoiling. It’s one of Monokuma’s minions.

“What do you want from me? Another kick? If so go ahead, I couldn’t defend myself anyway,” Hajime said, his voice both biting and deflated. He feels so weak.

The sound of the lock of his cell sliding, fills the small cell. Hajime’s heart quickens, which makes all his injuries throb quicker- in time with his heartbeat. He can’t take no more beatings. He can’t.

“I’m going to dress your wounds.” Hajime stops breathing and everything goes silent and still. The only thing he can hear is the thump of his own heart- which is almost deafening in the silence. The person kneels down to the side of his leg, placing a plastic box on the floor beside it. He hears two clicks and the box opens. “My name is Sakura Ogami. In this darkness I guess it’s hard to tell: I’m female,” she added. Hajime grunts in response, as the leg of his jeans is rolled up. As the fabric comes away from his wound he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth- his eyes squeezing closed against the pain. “I apologise, but we must prevent infection,” Ogami said, as she picks up an antiseptic wipe to rip the paper top off, in order to get to the wipe itself. Hajime watches for a moment, ignoring the sting, as the antiseptic comes into contact with his open wound.

“Why are you helping me?” he muttered, his voice gone. Ogami rubs some cream onto his deep cut, and bandages it up firmly before she replies.

“Because I don’t agree with any of this.” Hajime ponders her words for a moment, before shaking his head.

“If that was true, why are you here in the first place?” he asked, as Ogami rolls his jean leg back down. His leg already feels relief, and moveable again- the pain numbed and only an irritating –but bearable- ache.

“Monokuma is holding hostage something important to me,” she said, her voice the same, as if she was talking about the weather. Hajime’s thoughts instantly go to Nagito- not knowing where his lover is, or if he’s okay- or anything! It’s more painful than any injury on his body.

A cold sensation on his face makes him flinch. Ogami gives him a moment, before continuing to wipe at the cut on his cheek and forehead.

“Won’t Monokuma notice that someone’s patched me up?” Hajime asked. The next time Monokuma comes down here, he’ll see that Hajime’s been attended to and most likely reopen his wounds and rub some dirt into them to make sure they really do become infected.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought he’d be coming down here any time soon,” Ogami responded, putting a layer of cream over the gash on his forehead and cheek- and even the cut on his lip. “He’s planning to leave you here for a few days, give infection time to set in.” Hajime shudders at the thought. Monokuma’s really trying to kill him. He always knew that… but hearing those words from Ogami’s mouth has made this reality set in. He’s going to die.

Ogami moves back to the box and pulls out a roll of bandage.

“Lift your top up, I’ll tie this around your chest and torso. It’ll help to heal your ribs,” she said. Hajime complies, and painfully lifts his top up to his chin. He doesn’t dare look at his skin- scared to see it. To see the black and purple mass of his chest and stomach- the thought alone is enough to make him want to vomit. Not because he’s squeamish –far from it- but because it reminds him of what Monokuma and his minions are capable of doing to Nagito, if they ever find him.

“I brought some strong painkillers down here too,” she said, as she binds the bandage around his chest securely. Hajime finds the pain in his ribs intensify, but thinks about the relief he’ll feel once it’s finished, and the painkillers kick in.

“Thank you,” Hajime said, meeting her eyes for the first time. They’re intent as she secures the bandage, it reminds him of when Nagito’s set his mind on something- making his heart squeeze painfully. He’d give absolutely anything to be with him right now- curled around him on their bed, stroking his soft hair and feeling his smooth skin against his face and kissing it tenderly- reassuring him he’s safe. He wants to hear his soft, slightly raspy, voice read him a chapter from a book he’s currently reading, leaning into Hajime with a small content smile on his face.

Hajime feels his eyes beginning to sting with the need to cry. To sob and sob and sob, until his eyes have dried out and his throat is raw and scratchy, and there is nothing but a void of emptiness enveloping him, until Nagito comes to him and fills it up.

“Here.” A hand holding out two pills snaps him back. He takes them numbly, knowing they can’t relieve the pain of his longing for his lover- for the need to be with him.

He dry swallows them, and then realises that Ogami is holding out a bottle of water and two protein bars. Hajime’s stomach growls violently upon seeing them, alerting him at how hungry he actually is, but the sick feeling has kept him from feeling it.

“You haven’t eaten for nearly a day now,” Ogami said, and Hajime frowns. It’s only been a day? It feels like so much longer. Then again, every second away from Nagito feels like an eternity. His hand moves robotically to take the two bars and water. “You need to eat with painkillers.”

“I know,” Hajime said, opening a protein bar, one with oats and raisons. “Thank you…” Ogami shrugs nonchalant and starts putting things away into the plastic box. “I would say I’d help you get whoever it is Monokuma’s got hostage but…” he glances through the metal bars of his cell, and at the locked door that leads to the outside world.

“I can’t release you. This is all I can offer to help with,” Ogami said, not meeting his eyes. Hajime knew it was coming but his stomach still dropped in disappointment.

“Yeah… I know, I wouldn’t want to cause any more problems for you than I already have.”

Ogami stands and turns away. “I wish I could help more.”

“It’s fine. You’ve done enough,” Hajime assured. “Now go, before Monokuma or someone else notices you’re gone.” Ogami walks through the open cell door and closes it behind herself. Hajime can’t watch as she locks it, and walks towards the door beyond.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments!!<3 They mean the world to me!  
> Warning: Violence and slight gore.

The laptop flashes white and black for a few seconds, before a fuzzy face emerges. The pixelated images starts focussing, and an out of time voice filters through the speakers.

“Can you hear me?”

Nagito immediately responds, turning the volume up and said, “Yes. We can hear you Fujisaki.” The image blurs again, like it’s about to disappear, but it comes back- clearer.

“That’s better,” she chimed happily, her eyes closed in a smile. “This is better than wasting your credit on the burner phone.” Nagito nods in agreement. She opens her eyes and her smile falters. “Komaeda… why is Mondo Owada here?” she asked hesitantly. Nagito glances past Makoto and at the big guy sitting on the end of the couch. He does wonder that himself, but then looks at Makoto and remembers his insistence of hearing Owada out. Nagito can’t help but think that Makoto is too trusting. The opposite to Hinata, who’s even sceptical when they go shopping for food… In Hajime’s defence Nagito has to admit: those raspberries didn’t look in date.

“He’s going to help us,” Makoto said and added quickly, “I’m Makoto Togami by the way… Komaeda said you’re the one that helped him find me, when he lost sight of Owada… So thank you.”

“I didn’t really do much,” she said modestly.

“Sorry about that…” Owada mumbled gruffly. “I was just following orders…”

“Did you find anything on that CCTV footage of Nekomaru?” Nagito asked, seeing that the conversation is going off topic. He doesn’t mind a bit of idle conversation, but not until they have a new lead. Hajime’s counting on him.

“I did!” Fujisaki exclaimed excitedly. Nagito’s heart almost leaps out of his chest at her news. He leans forward, finding it hard to breathe.

“What did you find?” the words leave his mouth before he could think them up. _Hajime_. _Hajime I’ve got you_.

“It lead us to his home.” Nagito freezes. So… not to Hajime? His eyes start to sting with those damn tears again. “Oh…” Fujisaki said, her face sad and sympathetic. “I’m sorry Komaeda. I should have been more specific before I said anything… I’m so sorry…” The words are a blow to his heart and stomach, injecting pain and disappointment and anguish into his blood stream. It’s like he’s a child and someone’s just given him some sweets- only for them to snatch them away a second later.

A hand rests on his shoulder, and gives it a small squeeze. The heat from it burns him to the point he has to recoil. “At least we have more of a lead. Maybe Nekomaru has information,” Makoto said. Nagito pinches himself in an attempt to direct his thoughts away from the agony his heart is going through.

“You’re right,” he said, looking up and meeting Makoto’s hazel green eyes. “So let’s get moving.” Makoto smiles and tilts his head- his eyes flashing with determination. Nagito hopes he looks just as confident.

~

Nekomaru’s home is much like Owada’s, if not the same. Owada said that he’s on a run for Monokuma and that he wouldn’t be back for a while. Nagito sees that as a good thing, at least then they have time to take a look around and riffle through drawers and cupboards- to see if they can find anything on Hajime’s whereabouts.

“Take a look at this,” Makoto said, ushering Nagito and Owada over. He’s holding a black file with laminated pictures inside. The pictures are of –what Nagito can only describe as- pure destruction. Buildings on fire; people dead on the streets; blood splattered everywhere; black silhouettes holding guns and machetes; one picture is even of someone being hacked at with said weapon. He knows the pictures are fake, as the blood is pink and the people have no distinctive features or faces. They are all just shadows.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Owada said, his eyes wide in horror and eyebrows drawn together in a way that will leave early worry lines. Nagito draws his attention to the current picture they’re looking at and finds his throat tighten. On a wall, drawn in pink blood, is the word _Despair_.

“What is this organisation planning?” Makoto whispered, his voice distant and terrified. Nagito stares at the pictures not knowing what to say. Is this the _very big plan_ that Monokuma’s past student has in mind? To bring the world to destruction? Is that what this is all about?

“You didn’t know about this?” Nagito asked, casting his eyes to a green Owada. Just one look at him and Nagito already has his answer: No. No one, not even an actor, could create the confusion and pure terror on Owada’s face.

Loud footsteps thumping against the stairs outside make everyone flinch. Nekomaru is coming back. Makoto places the file down and looks at Nagito for directions. He doesn’t say anything, just remains where he is.

“We’ve got to hide!” Owada said quickly and frantically. Nagito shakes his head. He can’t talk to Nekomaru if he’s hiding. “What are you doing-”

The door opens and Nekomaru bounds in, immediately meeting Nagito’s eyes with a harsh stare. The wrath in Nagito’s must be more penetrating, for Nekomaru seems to visibly flinch. Makoto, seeing his resolve, stands his ground- his determination flowing off of him like radiation. It gives Nagito extra strength, he hopes it helps Owada as well, who looks ready to have a fight- which Nagito hopes doesn’t happen. He doesn’t have the time for a fight.

“Nekomaru,” Nagito started, his voice steady and cold and –for once in his life- abandoning the soft raspy lilt, that Hajime says he loves so much. “Where is Hajime Hinata? I will only ask once. If you don’t tell me I’ll have no choice but to force it out of you.” Nekomaru stands shoulder width apart and cracks his knuckles.

“Then I guess you’re going to have to force it out of me,” he grated out, his face pulling back into a large smirk, his eyes flashing. Nagito takes a step forward and tightens his ponytail, putting loose strands behind his ears. His heart thumps calmly in his chest, Hajime’s face surfacing in his mind- smiling fondly, his eyes warm and soft; radiating love and kindness. “Very well,” Nekomaru said, and lunges forward- sprinting towards them.

Nagito slows everything down in his mind and constructs a plan in his head. Before Nekomaru reaches him, he’ll shove Makoto to safety and while he does, he’ll kick Owada’s left hamstring, which will send him crashing to the ground away from Nekomaru-

Nagito turns rapidly, brings his leg up and landing it against Owada’s, and shoves Makoto away to the side before throwing himself down with him. Nekomaru crashes into the desk, sending the files and all their contents flying around the room.

Yanking Makoto up by the hood of his jacket, he hurls them away from the raging bull that is their attacker. Makoto trips and staggers, complying with the force of Nagito’s hand as he pulls them towards a sofa that sits in the middle of the living room. He leaves Makoto where he is, and charges for Nekomaru.

Nekomaru meets him head on, and throws himself at Nagito. They land on a coffee table, a shard of glass cutting at Nagito’s arm and shattering beneath his hands. He gets the heels of his boots against Nekomaru’s hips and drives all the strength and power he has to his legs- launching the larger guy over his head. He makes a mental note to thank Hajime for pushing him so hard to weight train.

His muscles contract and strain with the movement, and the sudden demand sends a wash of red heat towards his head. His ears burn and his eyes water, but he gets off of the floor, ignoring the stars in his eyes. He stumbles a bit, and slides the heel of his boot to the left, clasping the handle of the pocket knife.

Nekomaru recovers and starts to stand, but before he can recover completely, Nagito drives his wrist down. With a click the pocket knife shoots out of the hilt and lands against Nekomaru’s thigh; burying deep in his flesh. _That ones for Hajime_.

With a loud groan, Nekomaru collapses onto one knee; the sound reverberating around the room. Nagito yanks the knife out of his leg, and brings it down against his arm. Nekomaru flinches and falls to the side, clutching his new wound. _And that ones for everything else_.

“Stop it!” Nekomaru bellowed. Nagito stands over him and kicks him onto his back, staring down at him with cold merciless eyes. He places the heel of his boot against his shoulder and digs in it, holding him against the floor by his shoulder. Nekomaru hisses a breath in through his teeth and his knuckles whiten on the hold of his arm.

“I’ll ask one more time, as I’m feeling nice today,” Nagito said, increasing the pressure of his foot after every word. “Where is my fiancé?” Nekomaru breathes in heavily for a long moment, his nostrils flaring and sweat trickling down his face.

Makoto joins Nagito and looks down at Nekomaru, his eyes disappointed. Nagito’s not sure whether the disappointment is directed towards what Nekomaru did, or what Nagito did. He suspects it’s the first option.

And his suspicious are confirmed when he sighs and nods at Nagito with a little smile. A smile that reassures him that he did the right thing by not stabbing him anywhere vital-

“You shoulda’ killed him when you had the chance!” Owada yelled, coming up from behind Nagito and glaring down harshly at the guy on the floor. Apparently he doesn’t think the same as Makoto. “I’ll do it,” he said, before going to lunge forward. Nagito grabs the back of his top and sighs in exasperation.

“Calm down Owada,” Makoto said, as the biker struggles against Nagito’s hold- like a puppy being held by a lead as it tries to run forward. “He might have some information.”

“Traitor,” Nekomaru spat at Owada. This only fuels the guy’s anger and need to pummel him.

“Okay. Time out!” Makoto said loudly. “Owada, go over there.” He points to the sofa. When Owada makes no room to move, Makoto flaps his hand again and pierces him with his eyes. Owada grunts and shuffles heavy footed over to the sofa. “Now. Tell us where he is,” Makoto said. “We’re not going to kill you. We just want to know where Hinata is and then we’ll leave you alone.”

“You may not kill me, but _he_ will,” Nekomaru said. Nagito thought he was referring to him for a second, before seeing his eyes cast to the side with a haunting image inside them. The _he_ , is Monokuma.

“No he won’t,” Makoto said, kneeling down in front of him. “Not if we stick together. If you help us we can protect each other-”

“Can you hear yourself?” Nekomaru laughed, but even though he’s laughing his voice betrays that he’s shocked. Nagito digs his heel in deeper, making him wince and stop laughing. There’s no need to be an asshole to Makoto, he’s only trying to help. Even if his effort is wasted.

Makoto stands up, his determination and optimism slightly dented- but despite that, he stands strong. “Owada has decided to help us. Why can’t you?” he asked. Nekomaru looks away, rubbing at the wound on his arm.

“I have to protect Owari,” he muttered. Akane Owari… One of the people that helped take Hajime away from Nagito. The woman with the large smile. The one who continued to smile despite the fact she could see what she and her comrades where doing to Nagito- what they were doing to Hajime!

“Protect her from what?” Nagito asked harshly. “Don’t act like she’s a victim in this! _She took my fiancé away from me_!” Nagito screamed, his eyes stinging again, more fiercely this time. “And you helped!” Nekomaru flinches, and his eyes droop in shame. _Good_. Nagito hopes that shame and guilt and regret eats him from the inside out.

“Komaeda it’s okay. We’ll get him back,” Makoto said reassuringly, squeezing his shoulder. Nagito tries to find comfort in his squeeze… but he can’t. Because it’s not Hajime’s hand… it’s not Hajime’s warmth… It’s not Hajime’s voice telling him that things will be okay… He needs him… he needs him back, and no one will telling him anything!

“WHERE IS HE?” Nagito shouted, putting all his weight onto Nekomaru’s shoulder. The injured man groans and struggles slightly against the weight.

“I don’t know,” he said, and Nagito almost drives the knife back into his flesh- but his next statement stops him from doing so. “But I know someone who does.” Nagito squats down beside him and bores into his eyes.

“ _Who_?” he asked, his voice low and rough; rippling with fury. Nekomaru visibly holds his breath for a long moment, before opening his mouth.

“Mikan Tsmuiki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for your comments! I love you guys! :')


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the day-late update I was working all day yesterday and today!  
> Warning: Slight gore.

“Can we trust him?” Nagito whispered, sending a cautious glance to Nekomaru, who’s sitting on the sofa dressing his wounds.

“I don’t see why not,” Makoto responded, picking out another tiny shard of glass from Nagito’s hand. “He seemed genuine,” he added, scrutinising Nagito’s hand for any more pieces of glass. Nagito, once again, holds back the urge to mention that Makoto is _too_ trusting. “I never asked, but… How did you get those cuts on your knuckles?” Makoto asked, wiping at the new splits in Nagito’s skin.

“When Hajime was taken I ran after him…” Nagito muttered, staring at the deep slashes on his knuckles. “I… I was hysterical after that… I just remember beating the ground until I had no energy to move.” Makoto nods slightly, not looking up from the hand he’s freshly bandaging.

“What the fuck is this?” Owada boomed, holding up palm sized squares. Makoto glances over his shoulder and flushes red. “You’re not allowed relationships! And you call me a traitor.”

“Is this conversation necessary?” Nagito demanded, looking at Owada disapprovingly. Makoto starts to bandage Nagito’s other hand, muttering something under his breath; his cheeks still stained crimson.

“Who is this Tsmuiki?” Makoto asked, taking Nagito’s arm and disinfecting the cut.

“She’s a nurse who works for our organisation,” Owada answered, leaning against what’s left of Nekomaru’s desk. “Weird chick… I mean, she used to be alrigh’, but now she’s weird.” Nagito’s not sure what sort of statement that is.

“Where can we find her?” Nagito asked, getting his hopes up once again. It’s the only thing he’s got to cling to. It gives him strength, reminding him he’s not weak. If Hajime was here he’d call him fearless, strong and smart. Even if Nagito’s not sure whether he believes it or not.

“I don’t know,” Owada admitted begrudgingly. “But… you found me… and you found Nekomaru… so… you gotta’ be able to find her.”

“That’s right,” Makoto said, tightening the bandage on Nagito’s arm. “We will find her.”

“How?” Nekomaru asked from his position on the sofa. He seems to of finished binding his wounds.

“You must have some idea of where she could be,” Nagito snapped. He’s getting sick of these people dancing around the answer to his questions. He just wants to have his husband-to-be back, is that too much to ask for? His whole life all he’s ever had is despair. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Nor does he understand why life would want to punish Hajime… If anyone deserves happiness it’s him.

“I’ve never spoken to the woman,” Nekomaru said, somewhat gruffly. “No one speaks to her… Well not anymore… Not now she’s turned weird.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto asked, turning to face the other two men in the room.

“Ever since Monokuma joined our organisation, she’s been getting more and more distant with us… and just… acting strange. Muttering to herself about death and destruction and about her ‘love’ or something.” Nekomaru shrugs and Owada nods in agreement. He meets Nagito’s gaze and mouths ‘strange’.

“Is there _anything_ we could use to try and locate her?” Nagito asked, looking around. “Anyone?” He sighs in annoyance and starts pacing the room, rubbing his temple hard, and ignoring the sympathetic concerned look Makoto is giving him. “Great, just great. I’ve got this far and now I’m at a dead end.” He laughs bitterly at what he just said. _Dead_ _end_. Death certainly is the end if he doesn’t do something, and quick. He gave himself three days. His second day is almost up.

He stops pacing and runs a restless hand through his hair, disturbing the hair-tie and freeing locks. “Let’s go over what we know,” he said, drumming the tips of his fingers against his lips.

“Monokuma has Hinata kept in an underground basement somewhere in France,” Makoto supplied, and although he’s trying to be helpful, it doesn’t ease any of Nagito’s building hysteria- just adds to it.

“Thanks for reminding me,” Nagito muttered, taking up pacing again; quicker and more restless this time.

“Has Monokuma, or anyone else, ever said anything that gives you any indication on the location?” Makoto asked, his voice hopeful. Owada shakes his head and scratches the back of his head.

“Nah… I mean, I heard him mention somethin’ about a river once before,” Owada added as an afterthought. Nagito stops pacing and looks up from the ground. He’ll take anything. Absolutely anything. As long as it keeps him moving forward.

“That’s our next lead,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the sofa.

“Wait a minute,” Makoto exclaimed. “What are you going to do? Scout every house near a river?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to find Hajime,” Nagito replied. “And if that means searching every home near anywhere where there’s water: then I will.” Silence overcomes the room after that sentence. Nagito’s not sure whether it’s contemplative silence or stunned.

“ _Rue Cardinet_.” Nagito turns to Nekomaru. The injured man isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, he’s just staring painfully at the glass of the broken coffee table. Nagito moves so quickly and swiftly across the room, he’s not sure whether his feet actually touched the floor.

“What did you say?” he asked, bending at the waist to meet the man’s eyes, which are conflicted and torn.

“That’s where you’ll find Tsmuiki,” he responded quietly. “I’ll write down the exact address for you.” He finally meets Nagito’s eyes and when they do, all defeated emotions fly out of them. “Promise me you’ll destroy Monokuma.”

“Oh, I will.”

~

_“If anything ever happened to you, I’m not sure what I’d do,” Hajime said suddenly. Nagito looks up from his laptop and blinks in surprise. Hajime is looking at him with drawn eyebrows, his mouth curved downward. Nagito pinches the edges of his glasses and places them on his head; buried in his hair._

_“What’s wrong? What’s brought this on?” Nagito asked, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. Hajime laces their fingers together and looks downwards; his expression managing to get more serious._

_“I was just thinking about how, even though there isn’t the threat of the organisation anymore, so many things could take you away from me…” his voice grew quieter towards the end, to a mutter, and Nagito had to strain to hear him properly. “Like illness, or a freak accident… There’s so many things that could happen that are beyond my control… things I can’t protect you from…” Nagito feels his heart twang painfully and his eyes start to sting. His boyfriend’s eyes are full anguish and his face is screaming pain._

_“Hey…” Nagito said softly, crawling closer to him- to his side of the bed. “You shouldn’t think about things like that,” he said, stretching his legs out and pressing their sides together._

_“I just… I just don’t know what I’d do if something like that happened…” Nagito gently lifts his boyfriends face up to meet his eyes, and gives him a small smile._

_“If something like that did happen, you’d mourn and then move on. Find someone else, and start anew,” Nagito said, even though it pains him to say. The thought of Hajime being with anyone other than him hurts…_

_“I could never,” Hajime said, bringing a hand up to Nagito’s face and cupping his cheek; his fingers brushing his ear. “I’d die.” Nagito turns his head and kisses Hajime’s palm; his heart beating hard in his chest. Those two words are making his heart swell. Hajime places his forehead against Nagito’s and closes his eyes. “The thought alone is killing me.”_

_“I’m not going anywhere,” Nagito whispered, breathing in Hajime’s scent and relishing in his warmth “I promise.”_

~

Nagito jerks awake, his sweaty skin peeling from the window with effort. He looks around. They’re still on the road. Makoto glances at him from the driver’s seat and frowns. He’s clearly worried about him. Even though Nagito hasn’t even known him for day yet, he’s been around him enough to know what Makoto is thinking. He wears his thoughts on his face.

“You okay?” Makoto asked casually, keeping his eyes on the road. Nagito’s grateful for that, because he’s not sure how convincing his face is going to be.

“Yeah. I’m fine. How much further?” he asked, looking out the window. Nagito can’t have been asleep for more than fifteen minutes, because the digital clock only reads 19:30… That is, if you can even call it sleep. It was more like he spaced out and relived a memory… A memory that just reminds him how much he failed Hajime. Promising to never leave him, promising to protect him; to do everything to make sure he’d be safe. _I don’t deserve Hajime. Why would Hajime want someone as worthless as trash like me anyway?_

“Probably another fifteen minutes,” Makoto said, making Nagito jump; he did well to conceal it though: running a hand through his hair.

After a moments silence, Makoto speaks, almost making Nagito flinch again, “Um… Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Ask away,” Nagito replied, his voice almost as blank as he feels. Makoto chews on his lip for a moment, and it makes him wonder if he should have declined.

“In your sleep… You kept muttering ‘I promise’… Do you want to talk about it?” he finally said, filling Nagito with a sense of misery. Nagito glances over his shoulder, seeing Owada passed out on the backseats, emitting muffled snores; an arm thrown over his eyes and his legs at an awkward position. He turns back and worries his lip, going over his options. He doesn’t have to tell Makoto… but then again, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t.

“I just remembered a time when I’d promised Hajime that I wouldn’t leave him,” he said simply, hoping his voice didn’t betray his obvious tire.

“I’m sorry…” Makoto muttered. Nagito shrugs slightly, even though Makoto isn’t looking at him. “I said the same thing to Byakuya once…” he laughs bitterly and added, “and I ended up _choosing_ to leave him... What happened to Hajime is not your fault. You didn’t want this to happen. You didn’t tell him to leave…” Nagito turns Makoto’s words over in his head, knowing he’s right; that doesn’t stop him from feeling like this is all his fault though. Everything he touches he destroys.

“Stop blaming yourself for what happened,” Makoto said softly, bringing Nagito out of his retreat. “You are not to blame… Me losing Byakuya though… That’s all on me.”

“No it’s not,” Nagito protested, frowning. “You didn’t ask for this either.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t ask to be separated from my husband,” Makoto retorted. “I _wanted_ him away from me. _Nothing_ you can say can change that fact…” Nagito closes his mouth and turns his head away from Makoto. What can you say to that anyway? “ _Nothing_ at all…”

~

A car turns up at her house. A car she doesn’t recognise. Panic flaring her body, she scrambles from the living room and hurriedly locks her front door with shaking hands.

She knows what she has to do… But doing it will put into practise something she’s only ever thought about…

Monokuma wouldn’t hesitate… And neither would her beloved…

She walks to the kitchen on shaky legs and heads for her mobile.

There are some things she can’t do. Not yet anyway. Perhaps in the future.

Then she can make her beloved proud.

~

Mikan Tsmuiki’s house is a batted looking place. It’s like no one’s lived in it for years. There’re weeds growing up the walls, dead withered flowers in broken plant pots. Over grown grass hides broken garden china.

“Maybe her house back in Japan is more… appealing,” Makoto said, but even he doesn’t sound optimistic. Nagito sucks in a deep breath and steps onto the cracked pathway.

This house is in the middle of nowhere. It appears to be the only house for a few miles. Apparently they’re planning on building a hotel here. Whoever used to live here clearly didn’t want their house removed; despite the money offered for planning permission.

“Perfect place to be murdered,” Owada commented, making Makoto visibly wince. “No one would hear ya’ scream for miles.”

“Yes, thank you,” Makoto said tightly. Owada shrugs and raps on the front door. They wait a moment in eerie silence before knocking again. Makoto looks around and asked, “What if she’s not in-”

Owada kicks the door in, the wood collapsing in the doorframe. Nagito toes a piece of wood and walks over the threshold.

“Never mind…” Makoto sighed, following after Nagito.

 

“This place fucking reeks!” Owada shouted. Nagito raises an arm to his nose and mouth, observing the room. The windows are boarded up with ripped curtains draped across. There’re are various medicines on a table in the middle of a small living room. Bloodied bandages lay across a sofa, making Nagito shiver.

“My eyes are stinging,” Makoto said, blinking the water from his eyes. Nagito has to admit, one could catch an infection in here… And something tells him those medical supplies wouldn’t be any help in curing it.

“Where’s the stench coming from?” Owada asked roughly, walking through to another room; presumably a kitchen. Nagito and Makoto follow, not glancing back.

The smell permeates around them as they enter, and it takes Nagito everything not to turn around and walk back out.

“FUCK!” Owada bellowed, stepping back. Nagito’s eyes widen and his stomach lurches the contents of his small breakfast around.

“Holy-” Makoto stops mid-sentence and turns around, hurling the inside of his guts up; tears streaming down his face. Nagito stares in horror at the kitchen floor, swallowing the rising bile at the back of his throat.

“Is… is that a _body_?” Owada said, asking the question everyone knows the explanation to: but is too afraid to air the answer. Nagito stares wide-eyed at the decapitated human, lying sprawled on the floor. “What… Told ya’ she was weird!” Nagito narrows his eyes at Owada, not needing to express how much of understatement that is.

“How… how could… someone _do that_?” Makoto whimpered, his voice hoarse. He refuses to turn around and look at the body; just stays slightly hunched over the puddle of vomit he’s created.

“I’ve seen worse,” Nagito admitted, surveying the scene again. He suspects Owada’s seen worse as well, as he doesn’t seem put-out by the actual body itself, but by the fact that it’s in Tsmuiki’s _house_.

“ _Worse than that_?” Makoto exclaimed, flailing a hand behind himself, while keeping the over clamped over his nose. “I’m scarred…” he muttered, his eyes suddenly haunted. “If this… if this is what they’re capable of…”

“Lost any of that hope?” Owada asked, like he expected something like this to happen sooner or later. Makoto gags and braces his hands on a nearby counter. Nagito turns to Owada disapprovingly. “What?”

“Not the time,” he muttered, turning to Makoto. He places a hesitant hand to his back, rubbing it gently. This action always calms him… perhaps it will work on Makoto. “Um… Makoto… things may look bad right now, but…” he trails off and casts his eyes to the body pieces. He can’t think of anything to say that will make this better… Hajime would know what to say… He always knows what to say… Always knows how to make people feel better; keep them on a straight and narrow path that will only lead to good things.

“It’s okay Nagito,” Makoto said, clearing his throat. He places a hand to Nagito’s arm and squeezes it gently. “This doesn’t change the way I see things… These people can still change… They just need a second chance,” he added, smiling weakly. Nagito does his best to stay nonchalant, but he can’t see any of these people reverting back… That is where _his_ hope stops.

A bunch of car doors slamming, make everyone in the room jump. Owada moves into the living room, Nagito and Makoto quickly following.

Through the open door, Nagito sees about four black vans outside. And he pales when he realises who are walking towards the house.

“Run!” Owada yelled, breaking into a sprint through the kitchen. Nagito doesn’t hesitate, and neither does Makoto, once Monokuma’s minions start running up the path.

“Out the back door!” Makoto shouted, as they jump over the body on the floor. Nagito follows Owada out the back door and into the forest that is Tsmuiki’s garden.

“She must have seen us coming,” Nagito said, running and jumping over a small fence that leads to more deserted roads. Makoto catches up to him, sprinting at his side.

“What are we going to do?” he asked hysterically, looking behind himself erratically. “There is nowhere to go for _miles_. And we don’t have a car!” Nagito ignores the thumping of his ever-so tired heart, and charges forward; remembering a large green house growing tomatoes, that was on the way to the house.

“Green house!” he yelled at Owada, grabbing Makoto’s arm and hurling them around a corner. Owada quickly double backs and follows him as he runs. “It’s large enough that we may lose them in it!” he added to Makoto’s sceptical look.

“I still don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“ _Where else is there_?” he screamed, stunning Makoto into contemplative silence; the only sound being the hard echoing of erratic footsteps and Makoto’s slight pant. Nagito, and he suspects Owada, could keep running for miles… but if Makoto’s slight pant is any indication: he can’t.

The only thing is, will they make it to the green house?

Or will the bullets from the guns, Monokuma’s minions have started firing, kill them before they make it?

“Shit…” Owada cursed, running diagonally and then back on himself; Nagito and Makoto doing the same. It’s not far to the green house, but anything could happen between now, and the next couple of feet.

“Come on!” Nagito urged, breaking more ground and puling Makoto up to the green house. He smashes through the door and starts running through the overgrown plants, stepping on tomatoes that wet his black ankle boots. Branches and leaves whip at his skin, probably leaving red marks.

“Fuck…” They stop at the end of the green house. _No_. Nagito was for sure in thinking there was another door. There _must_ be another door!

“There’s… a window,” Makoto panted, pointing to a small alcove in the wall. It’s too high up for them reach, maybe if they give each other a boost up… but someone will be left alone…

Nagito turns to his companions, seeing the same knowing pained look on their faces.

“Go Nagito,” Makoto said forcefully, holding his stomach where Nagito suspects a stitch is lying. Nagito shakes his head no. He can’t leave him. He can’t leave either of them; who knows what those people will do. He can’t condemn them like that. He can’t!

“I’ll launch ya up there,” Owada said, taking a step forward and wincing. Nagito looks down and sees a small, stained red, hole in his jeans. He meets Owada’s eyes, trying to find something to say; something that will help. “Togami’s right, ya’ have to go. Your fiancé is counting on ya’. We’ll be fine; Monokuma will want information from us, so we’ll be alright for now.”

“You need to go now,” Makoto urged, giving Nagito a little shove. Nagito shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing. “Go Nagito!” Makoto shouted. “Ending up in here was fate. This way you can leave without being seen and get a head start. They’ll be distracted with us for a while.”

“They went in here!” someone shouts from the entrance. “Split up and search the area!”

Owada grabs Nagito’s shoulders and shakes him.

“Now’s not the time to fucking flake out,” he said quietly but forcefully. Nagito, slightly taken aback by Owada’s surprisingly meaningful sentence, gives a slight nod and casts his eyes to Makoto, who gives him a winning smile.

“I trust you Nagito,” Makoto said, bowing his head slightly. “And I know you’ll find us. Now go, before it’s too late.” Nagito nods, more determined, and turns to face Owada, who has his hand cupped ready. Nagito places his foot in his hands and allows himself to be thrown upward. He grabs the window ledge and hauls himself up, elbowing the window and breaking it open. The fall is going to be hard, but if he lands correctly he’ll be unscathed.

Just before jumping, he turns back, seeing Monokuma’s minions advancing closer.

He looks down to Makoto and Owada and said, “Looks like those tracking devices will come in handy after all.” Makoto’s eyes widen and he quickly pulls his shoe off, pulling out the small altered device. A device Nagito made with help and clear instructions from Fujisaki. “I’ll find you both. I promise,” he said. Makoto nods, swallowing the tracking device with a grimace.

“You’re gonna wanna live first,” Owada said, prompting Nagito to finally leave.


	14. Chapter 14

“Gah!” Makoto lands crumpled in a corner of a dark cell, Owada falling down beside him and landing on his wrist. “Ah!” he yelled out, a feeling of intense pain lingering in his wrist. He pulls it out from under Owada and clutches it close to his chest; breathing in heavily. He doesn’t think it’s broken, just sprained…

“Fuck this,” Owada grumbled, and Makoto feels him sit upright. Its pitch black in this room -cell- and Makoto can’t see a _thing_. “I landed on you didn’t I?” Owada asked, shifting next to him.

“Just my wrist, but I’ll be fine,” Makoto responded, slowly twisting his wrist around in a circle. It clicks a few times, and the throbbing continues, but it’s moveable; it can’t be broken. “Did he get away?” Makoto said hesitantly. He was knocked unconscious first, and never saw whether Nagito got away…

“Yeah,” Owada answered, making Makoto deflate with relief; and when he does, he feels Owada relax as well. Makoto blinks a few times, his eyes slightly adjusted. He looks around, he’s defiantly in a cell. There’s a door opposite him, presumably leading to the outside; but cell bars surround him, caging him in like some animal-

He sits up, like someone shocked him. Nagito’s fiancé is being kept in an underground cell… Much like this one. He crawls forward, careful not to put too much weight on his wrist, and his eyes widen. Sitting in a corner, hugging their knees to their chest, is a body. Makoto’s eyes haven’t adjusted enough to see whether or not this person is a male, or even alive.

“Hey…” Makoto said quietly. “Are you…” he stops, what could he possibly ask? _Are you okay_? No, of course they’re not okay.

“I’m alive.” The body shifts in the darkness, and Makoto narrows his eyes in an attempt to see. The voice was low and hoarse, like they haven’t spoken in years. “Barely…” was muttered, and something else Makoto didn’t quite catch.

“I’m Makoto Togami,” Makoto said, and he could’ve sworn he heard a sharp intake of breath. “And this is-”

“One of Monokuma’s minions,” the person spat, and Makoto is now certain that they’re a guy.

“Hey!” Owada yelled, “I don’t work for him anymore. Your fiancé fucking strangled me and forcibly changed my mind!” Fiancé? The guy sitting there, slumped in a corner, is Hajime Hinata? Of course, Owada would know.

“My fiancé?” He murmured, like the words were spoken in an alien language.

“Yeah, your fiancé!” Owada repeated. “If it weren’t for Togami I’d be fucking dead.” The guy moves in the dark, coming closer to them. Makoto is certain that he’s Hajime Hinata; if this reaction is anything to go by.

“You know Nagito?” he whispered, sounding like a lost child. “Is he OK? Where is he? Why are you here? Was he taken by Monokuma? Was he hurt? Answer me!” he yelled erratically. Makoto can see him shaking, his face taut with anticipation and fear.

“Give us a fucking chance,” Owada exclaimed. Makoto sighs and decides to speak up before Hinata decapitates Owada’s head from his shoulders.

“Yes we know him,” Makoto answered, getting Hinata’s frantic eyes to look at him. “He saved my life. And he’s been doing everything to find you,” he added, and even though he was trying to make Hinata feel better, it has the opposite effect. Hinata’s face screws up and he grabs his head, his hands and body trembling.

“He’s going to get hurt,” he muttered madly. “He’s going to get hurt and it’s going to be all my fault.” Makoto frowns angrily, why does everyone keep blaming these things on themselves? Nagito didn’t ask for this, and Hinata defiantly didn’t; so why do they blame themselves for something out of their control?

“That’s what Nagito says,” Makoto said. Hinata looks up, his face upset. “Nagito blames himself for all of this.” Makoto looks away and through the cell bars, his mind drifting somewhere he doesn’t want it to. “Nagito says it’s his fault, you say it’s your fault, Byakuya says it’s his fault, I say its Monokuma’s fault- we can’t all be right.” Makoto sighs, and rubs his eyes- he hadn’t realised how tired he is until being in this darkness.

“Monokuma’s to blame,” Owada agreed. “He… he did all this.” Makoto nods his head, agreeing with something Owada’s said for once. Makoto chances a glance at Hinata, and sees the guy slump back against the wall. He feels as though he should say something to make him feel better, give him some hope, but… he can’t think of what to say.

“How was Nagito?” Hinata asked, his voice barely a murmur. Makoto thinks about this for moment, deciding to tell him the truth and not sugar-coat it.

“At first… not good,” he said hesitantly, and see’s Hinata wince. “But… he’s been amazing. He’s so strong Hinata, and so, so smart. He’s going to be okay, I’m sure of it,” Makoto said impulsively, emphasising every word, conveying how incredible Nagito has been. “He’s been an amazing friend to me… He saved my life; didn’t argue with me when I asked to help him; he looked out for me and never left me alone for too long; and even in the end he tried to save both me _and_ Owada… But I know that we had to part, I wouldn’t have been able to carry on running, and Owada was shot in the leg… He had to go. And he did, and he got away.”

“You’re lucky to have Komaeda,” Owada said, though it sounded strained. “Even though ‘e tried to kill me, twice, in the end he tried to save me… which is what matters.”

“He didn’t try to kill you twice,” Makoto defended, sounding accusing. Owada turns to him and points to his neck.

“Togami, you told him to stop and he did; then he did it again! Like something snapped in him.” Makoto opens his mouth to protest, and quickly closes it… Owada’s not wrong, he did _kind of_ do that…

A low chuckle makes its way from the corner of the cell, and Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees Hinata smiling; not at them though, but like he’s seeing something they’re not.

“He’s… stubborn,” Hajime said, smiling fondly. “But he has his moments where you think you’re getting through to him, only for him to turn around and prove you wrong.”

“Tell me about it…” Owada grumbled, rubbing at his neck where a few light bruises lay; in the dark though they’re not seen.

“I miss him…” Hinata whispered, like the words physically hurt him, and the way they were said, made Makoto’s heart twang. He looks so broken and lost.

Makoto lets out a resigned breath and touches his stomach. “I have a tracking device inside me,” he muttered, unsure if they’re being watched or not.

“What?” Hinata said, his face a picture of pure shock; the lost look slowly fading from his eyes.

“Nagito made it, and I swallowed it before I was taken,” Makoto explained, watching Hinata’s face morph into something unreadable; it’s like his emotions are having a fight amongst themselves. “He’s coming Hinata. He’s going to get us out of here.” Hinata settles back against the wall again and casts his eyes downward.

“I don’t know whether that’s best news I’ve ever heard, or the worst.”

No one speaks after that. Makoto sees it as good news, and he knows Owada does… but for Hinata… He’s petrified something is going to happen to Nagito, and by him coming to recuse them: it puts him in danger. Hinata sacrificed himself in order to keep that danger away from his fiancé.

And Nagito’s walking straight into it anyway.

 

~

Sitting in a car, a few miles from the greenhouse, is Nagito. He’d ran for so long, his legs feel like jelly; and that’s not just from the nerves. Nerves he developed when he phoned Fujisaki and asked her to activate the tracking device.

He’s so close to finding Hajime. _So close_.

He shakily ties his hair up, pulling it away from his sweat stricken face. He’d never ran so fast for so many miles before; not even when he and Hajime ran along the beach back in Hawaii… Hajime was right when he said he’d _thank him one day_.

“Nagito I’ve got them!” Fujisaki cheered, and Nagito’s shaking and ever fast beating heart increases; turns out that that _day_ is today.

 

~

Makoto’s been missing for two days now, and Byakuya’s surprised he hasn’t gone insane. Kirigiri knows something is _troubling_ him -understatement of the year- but she hasn’t pressed for answers; which he is grateful for.

Ever since seeing Makoto’s face when he told him the truth, Byakuya’s been rethinking his whole life. He should have told him sooner, he _knew_ that, but he let logic and reason cloud his judgement.

His phone vibrates on his desk, and for a ludicrous second, he thought -believed- it would be Makoto. How his expectations where shattered when he saw an unknown number.

_I’ve found him. Your husband is there as well- I thought you should know._

Byakuya frowns and scrolls down, seeing an address underneath the message.

He straightens up, taking in a sharp breath. Hinata’s fiancé. He’s found Hinata and Makoto is there too.

Leaving his office and heading for the lounge of the Covert, he allows himself to let in the feeling that Makoto always wants everyone to cling to.

Hope.


	15. Chapter 15

Nagito is coming for him. He’s coming for _them_. Hajime doesn’t know how to feel about that. When he found out that Nagito's uninjured and safe it felt like his whole body was suddenly relieved of all pain. Now there’s just a dull ache, reminding him that he’s fiancé is coming to save him…

Hajime grits his teeth harder, crushing the protein bar in his hand. He saved the second bar Ogami gave him for when he really needed it. Now he’s splitting it into three and handing it around his cell, which has become slightly cramped.

“Thank you,” Makoto said. Hajime shrugs and eats his third. He didn’t want to give a piece to Owada, but he did; only because he helped Nagito get away. Therefore he owes a debt to him, a debt he could never repay; nothing is more important to him than Nagito. “Tell me about him.” Hajime stops chewing and looks up, wondering what Makoto’s talking about. “Nagito, I mean,” he added. Hajime swallows and brings his legs up to his chest. The action hurts his injured leg, but the position helps with the ache of his ribs.

“It’s not like you don’t know him,” Hajime muttered. He doesn’t really want to talk about him, because he associates Nagito with good, happy, joyous times and places… which this cell is not.

“I know but… I’ve realised something,” Makoto said, frowning in thought. “I’ve never actually seen Nagito smile.” Hajime’s mind instantly wanders to Nagito, and him smiling so brightly he made the sun look dull. “Even when I smiled at him, he never returned it… It’s like he physically couldn’t.” Hajime balls his hands into fists, his blunt nails digging into his skin. He doesn’t need to hear this… He doesn’t want to hear it… The only image he wants in his mind is Nagito happy, not this image Makoto is creating of him. He knows the guy is only trying to make him feel better, maybe even try to cheer him up, but it’s having the opposite effect. “What’s he interested in?” Makoto asked.

It might have been how Makoto said it, or by the way he looks genuinely interested, but Hajime automatically responded with, “He likes reading and writing- and he’s a published author.” As Hajime said it, Makoto’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Wow. That’s so cool!” Owada exclaimed, and Hajime finds his mood uplifting. Maybe talking about this will make him feel better.

“What’s his novel about?” Makoto asked enthusiastically.

“It’s about an assassin falling in love with someone they’re not allowed to,” Hajime answered, smiling fondly and feeling proud. “The romance is more of a sub-story though. It’s mainly about the assassin finding who they are as a person, and trying to forge a future they can be happy with... I’m not really doing the story justice, you’ll have to read it to understand how incredible it is.” As the words leave his mouth he’s suddenly plummeted back into despair. How can Makoto read it if he’s murdered here?

“I’ll be sure to buy it in hardback,” Makoto said smiling softly. Hajime laughs slightly, thinking how thrilled Nagito gets whenever someone purchases his book in hardback… Apparently that means the reader loves the novel and cherishes it. “Is he writing any other novels?”

“He’s writing the sequel to his first one,” Hajime replied. “He’s a bit lost for inspiration at the moment... but I know it’ll be just as good as the first, if not better.” Hajime has to take a moment. He’s talking about this like it’s going to be easy. It is anything but easy. All he has to do is look around to know it is going to be far from _easy_.

“Everything is going to be alright,” Makoto said, placing a hand to his shoulder. Hajime flinches at the touch, but Makoto doesn’t retract his hand, instead he squeezes his shoulder gently and gives him an encouraging smile. Maybe Makoto’s right… Maybe things will work out…

“Okay,” Hajime said, meeting Makoto’s eyes. “I’ll believe for a while.”

“Nagito would be happy to hear that.”

~

Of all the things Nagito should be thinking about right now, he’s reciting his wedding vows. It’s managing to keep him calm, as he drives for the townhouse that's keeping Hajime captive. He wrote his vows a while ago, and muttering them under his breath right now, he’s realised how mundane they are- considering everything that's happened- _happening_. One of the first things he’ll do when he and Hajime get home, is rewrite his wedding vows.

The town house comes into focus in the distance. Distance that doesn’t seem to be shrinking.

Nagito is on his third day. It’s currently 6:00 in the morning and he wants to be on a plane back to Hawaii by this evening… It’s wishful thinking he knows, but he can still hope and strive for that peace.

It may even happen yet.

Texting Togami was a spare of the moment thing. He did it because he knows Makoto will want to see him. Even though his friend doesn’t know how he feels about husband at the moment, he still loves the guy; that much is clear. So he texted him. A part of him also did it for himself, because he knows Togami will bring backup.

The whole journey he’s been mentally preparing himself for what he may find. It’s obvious that Hajime has been beaten a lot; to what extent is unknown… he’s just begging and pleading and beseeching anyone and anything that Hajime is _alive_. That’s all he wants. For Hajime to be alive…

He tightens his grip of the steering wheel and straightens up. _The town house is just around this bend_.

A cold sweat breaks out on his forehead, and he can feel dampness trickling down his back- making him shiver. He is so scared. He is absolutely petrified. He’s admitting this to himself because there is no point in hiding it anymore. He’s coming to the end of his journey and this is usually the part where everything is put into the light.

Channelling his fear into something more purposeful, he brakes the car, and sprints towards the townhouse trapping Hajime.

~

“Ouch!” Owada yelled out, grabbing Makoto’s wrists tightly. Hajime bends his arm back automatically, getting him to release Makoto’s wrists. “Ouch!” he shouted louder, wincing in the position Hajime’s holding his arm in.

“Stop struggling,” Hajime ordered, shoving his arm and moving to keep his leg pinned down. “Do you want an infection?” he asked rhetorically. Owada mumbles and turns his face away. Hajime sighs, not in the mood to deal with him. He’d ripped off a piece of bandage from around his chest, and given it to Makoto. Owada was shot in the leg, and after digging around carefully, Hajime was able to remove the bullet; but his wound needs dressing.

“How did you get the bullet out?” Makoto asked, being extra careful with tying the bandage, due to Owada’s outburst just now.

“I’ve had first aid training,” Hajime replied. “You don’t get involved with this type of business and not learn how to look after yourself,” he added to Makoto’s questioning glance. Makoto nods in understanding and rolls Owada’s jean leg back down. “Doesn’t it feel better now the bullet’s out?” Hajime said sardonically.

“It fucking hurt!” Owada bellowed, drawing his leg up to him. Hajime leans back against the damp wall and closes his eyes, letting out a deep breath.

“Not as much as infection would,” he said, ignoring the kick in the ankle he got in response. He hasn’t got the motivation to stoop to Owada’s level. He can’t stop thinking about Nagito coming to him, and it’s slowly draining him. Makoto and Owada were brought here a long time ago now, it’s only a matter of time before Nagito arrives… And Hajime’s not sure he’s prepared for the danger that comes with that.

~

Slowing to a walk, Nagito takes in the three-story townhouse. It’s semi-detached, one on the end of a row of houses that look exactly the same. Hajime is being kept _underneath_ it… which means Nagito doesn’t actually have to go inside the building. That’s a good thing, it means he has time to get in and out before Monokuma is alerted of his presence… That is if the room isn’t being monitored.

He keeps low as he approaches the building, scanning the front drive for any way underneath the house. The black van is not on the driveway, which means Monokuma and his minions cannot be here. That gives him more time.

He stands up straight and walks up the driveway. Weary of the bay window, he sticks to the left hand side and scouts the side-alley. At the end, is a set of stone steps leading to a small alcove in the building.

Nagito feels his heart begin to beat harder, and his palms start to sweat as he approaches the stairs. This must be where Hajime is being kept; and with any luck, where Makoto and Owada are as well.

He lets out a slow breath of air as he descends the steep stairs, his eyes pinned on the wooden door at the bottom. Every nerve and cell and blood vessel is thumping along with his heart; the hair on his arms and neck stand up on ceremony as he gets closer to the small door. His breathing becomes shallow and quick, and his thoughts are consumed of Hajime, and Hajime alone. _How will he find him_? _Will he be conscious_? _Able to walk_? _Half-dead- dying_?

He places his trembling hand to the doorknob, his engagement ring glistening despite the fact there is no sun- just grey clouds. He turns the handle, hearing it click- Monokuma obviously didn’t feel the need to lock it. How he underestimated Nagito’s abilities.

Swinging the door open, and letting light into the dark room, Nagito stands in the doorway, peering inside. From here he can smell dampness and can only imagine how cold it must be to be down there…

“N-Nagito?” He whips his head in the direction of the voice, his breathing stopping. In front of him is a black cell, and inside that cell are three people. But his eyes are drawn to one person in particular.

Taking in the metallic tang of the air, Nagito rushes inside the room and throws himself at the metal bars, absolutely shaking from the inside out.

“Hajime,” Nagito wheezed, placing his hands through the bars and gently touching his lovers beaten face. He has cuts and bruises marring his skin, but despite that: his eyes are bright and are taking Nagito’s breath away. Hajime opens and closes his mouth, his eyes going glossy. Nagito looks across to the cell and sees the door to it. He retracts his hand and tugs on the metal.

“It’s locked,” Hajime gasped, reaching a hand through the bar.

“I’m getting you out, _now_!” Nagito shouted, turning around and spotting a crowbar. Ignoring the dry blood coated on one end, Nagito places it against the padlock on the cell and yanks. He puts all his strength and desperation into his arms and pulls until the lock snaps and the pad falls to the floor with a clang.

Whipping the door open, Nagito launches himself at Hajime and buries his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent- although quite earthy, his natural smell still lingers, and it makes everything seem okay.

“I’ve found you,” Nagito cried, gripping him tightly. Hajime’s arms come around him, one hand burying it’s self in Nagito’s loose hair and another going underneath his top and rubbing the skin of his back. Nagito lets the tears he’s been holding in this whole time come rushing out of him, and onto the skin of Hajime’s neck. Sobs wrack his body as he crushes his lover’s body against his. “I thought I’d lost you- I kept saying that you’re okay, but a part of me was losing hope- I- I-”

“It’s okay,” Hajime whispered, and Nagito stops breathing, squeezing his eyes closed so tightly he sees stars, and lets out the loudest scream his lungs can make. It’s filled with so much anguish and grief and relief and fury- he’s lungs feel like their burning, and his eyes won’t stop producing tears. As he screams his muscles contract, and he finds himself throwing a fit like he did when the van drove out of sight. Hajime holds onto him more tightly, rocking back and forth, shushing him gently and running his hand through his hair and down his back. Nagito grips Hajime so tightly his blunt fingernails must be digging into his skin, through his top, and leaving marks.

He takes in a deep shaky breath and sobs against Hajime’s shoulder once more, his breathing shallow.

He’s not sure how long they remain like that: Hajime soothing him, and gently swaying them, until the last of Nagito’s whimpers come to a stop.

He’s not sure he has the energy to move, but they have to leave- Monokuma could be back any minute and Nagito’s only just got Hajime back; he won’t lose him again. He _won’t_.

“We have to go,” Nagito murmured, voice broken. “We have to get out of here.” Hajime slowly pulls back, and cups Nagito’s wet face, drying the underneath of his eyes with his thumbs. He leans into his warm hands, letting the feeling of protection override his fear.

“You’re beautiful Nagito,” Hajime muttered, his eyes roaming his face. “I never thought I’d get to see you again.” Nagito’s stomach does summersaults and his heart soars, adrenaline flowing through his body. He closes his eyes and presses his mouth against Hajime’s.

His lips are cracked and dry, and Nagito can taste the blood on his lip and inside his mouth- but he doesn’t care. He can feel Hajime’s heartbeat against his chest, and finds it beating in sync with his own.

Nagito’s breathing is harsh and so is Hajime’s, his breath mingling with Nagito’s own. The exhale of air around his nose and top lip sends shivers down his spine- a feeling he thought he’d never get to feel again, because Hajime is the only person who can make him feel this way. Make him feel like he’s flying, but also grounded and safe, at the same time.

“Let’s go,” Nagito breathed, in between the break of his and Hajime’s lips. His arms are squeezed and with one final fierce meeting of mouths, Hajime stands- with Nagito’s help.

“You guys make me wanna vomit and cry at the same time.” A voice Nagito is familiar with, makes him jump. Owada grins broadly at him and sticks a thumb up- his arm outstretched. “Ya’ found us.” Nagito’s never been so happy to see the biker’s stupid grin before, in the short space of time he’s known him.

Nagito feels a strong hand take his own, a thumb rubbing his knuckles gently. Hajime smiles at him and Nagito returns it, squeezing his hand tightly. A vow that he’s never going to let him go again.

“You finally smiled.” Nagito looks to his left and sees Makoto. His friend’s cheeks are flushed pink and he’s smiling his trademark smile at him. Nagito’s mouth curves up again, Makoto’s been right all along it seems; everything will be okay. As if reading his thoughts Makoto’s grin seems to get bigger.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Owada yelled, slightly limping out of the cell. Hajime and Nagito follow, Makoto closely following behind. Nagito notices that Hajime is also limping, a hand resting around his chest. It pains him to see and he wants to ask what they did to him; but decides getting to safety is the most important thing to do at the moment. Once he’s done that, he can tend to Hajime and make him okay again…

Because that’s what’s going to happen right? Everyone’s going to be okay and get a happy ending?

Right?


	16. Chapter 16

Nagito gently wipes at the cuts on Hajime’s face with an antiseptic wipe. He focuses on the cuts, trying his hardest not to meet Hajime’s eyes; which are looking at him like he’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t mind, but… it’s making it hard not to break down like he did when he found him… Or worse, pounce on him, which wouldn’t be good considering the injuries he’s sustained on his ribs.

“Hey,” Hajime whispered softly, taking Nagito’s hand. “You’re shaking…” He sandwiches his hand in between his and rubs it gently. Nagito lets out an unsteady breath, only now realising how hard his pulse is thumping.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Nagito muttered, his voice barely audible. Hajime places a light kiss to Nagito’s hand and then rubs the spot, and Nagito can’t help thinking it’s like he’s rubbing the kiss into his skin; the thought makes him smile slightly. “I did everything I could to find you… _Everything_ … I was never going to just sit around and wait… Wait to be told that you was… that you was _killed_.” he winces and could barely say the last word. It was like his throat closed up, stubbornly not letting the word out; and when he did it grated against his tonsils painfully.

“I know…” Hajime said quietly, caressing his face. Nagito turns his head instinctively and kisses his palm. Hajime’s face twists painfully and before Nagito could respond, his mouth is being attacked by Hajime’s.

His mouth is ravished. Hajime bites and sucks and pulls on his lips, his tongue sliding around his mouth, flicking the roof of his mouth; sending bolts of arousal through Nagito’s being, lighting him on fire. Nagito lets out a hitched moan and kisses him back, winding his arms around him and running his fingers through his hair, his mind foggy and senses shut off.

Hajime grabs Nagito’s hips and hoists him into his lap, rubbing circles onto the exposed skin of his hipbones. Nagito’s legs immediately wrap around Hajime’s waist, pressing their groins together; he’s being careful not to hurt him though. Hajime gasps, his hips rucking forward into Nagito’s, the pressure sending electricity shooting from his stomach and sparking his whole body, making him groan in pleasure. Behind his eyelids it’s white, and he’s hot. His whole body is on fire. This… this is what Hajime does to him.

Their breathing comes fast and hard, and Nagito’s already out of breath. Hajime snakes a warm hand up Nagito’s top, caressing his skin. Nagito can feel himself growing harder and harder as one of Hajime’s hand goes up his chest, the tips of his fingers circling his left nipple. Nagito can’t keep the kiss going any longer, and has to break it to moan.

As he places his head against Hajime’s shoulder, Hajime starts to kiss at his neck, licking circles and biting his ear. His heart beats fast, the thumping in his ears and in between his legs, making him whimper. Hajime stands up shakily, lifting Nagito, and placing him flat onto the bed. Nagito lets out a long breath, which was more of a moan if anything.

Slowly undoing Nagito’s jeans, Hajime climbs atop him and resumes teasing the skin of his neck with his mouth.

“W-wait,” Nagito breathed, turning his head and nudging Hajime’s face with his nose.

“You are just too adorable,” Hajime laughed breathlessly, and kisses him again. Nagito surrenders to him, not wanting to put up a fight. He moans loudly, not caring who hears. And so does Hajime, the noise going straight to his groin: which Hajime has now started to gently touch- making stars appear in Nagito’s vision.

“Y-your ribs,” Nagito got out, panting and leaning against Hajime’s hand, despite what he said. Hajime smiles and gently caresses his face.

“We’re not going all the way. Don’t worry,” Hajime replied, and it eases some of Nagito’s worry. “It would hurt my ribs too much- maybe even damage them more… I do want to go all the way though…”

“Hajime!”

~

Sipping the hot tea he’s been made, Makoto looks across the large desk and meets Byakuya’s gaze.

“Are you hurt?” Byakuya asked him, his usual cold façade replaced with concern. Well, as much as a concerned face Byakuya can make. His eyebrows are drawn together and his mouth his curved down as usual, but his eyes are pleading and worried.

“No… Well, my wrist,” he added as an afterthought. Byakuya moves from his desk and approaches him. Makoto leans away instinctively, and immediately regrets it. What is he playing at? This is his husband for goodness sake! Yes, he doesn’t know him as well as he thought, but it’s still the same Byakuya that he fell in love with and married.

Byakuya holds a hand out, but slowly takes his wrist, giving Makoto enough time to pull away if he wishes. Makoto doesn’t pull away though. Byakuya slowly rotates it, making Makoto wince.

“It’s sprained,” he diagnosed, releasing his hand after a moments hesitation. “I’ll bandage it for you,” he said, pulling a first aid kit out from under his desk; Makoto guesses it’s for emergencies. “Do you want to talk about it?” Byakuya asked. Makoto shakes his head silently, looking down into his tea. He has so much to talk about, but what happened to him can wait.

“Byakuya…” Makoto muttered, as Byakuya kneels down and takes his hand again. “I’m so sorry…” he said quietly, but with conviction.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Byakuya replied instantly, his voice stern. He bandages his wrist robotically, like he’s done it multiple times before… that thought doesn’t sit right with Makoto. “I am the only one who should be apologising.” Makoto grabs his wrist with his good hand, halting his bandaging. He frowns angrily at Byakuya, his mouth moving and words tumbling out without being processed first.

“You don’t need to say sorry to me! You’ve already said it loads of times, I don’t need to hear it anymore. Yes, you should’ve told me about all this, and you’re in the wrong for not doing that- but if I’ve learned anything by seeing Nagito so distraught and lost, because he had Hinata taken away from him, it’s that I don’t want to lose you! I _can’t_ lose you.” Makoto breathes heavily, glad to finally get that off of his chest.

He feels awful about himself with how he treated Byakuya, especially after seeing what Nagito went through- Byakuya is right here, and has been all along, Hinata hasn’t been. Makoto’s known Byakuya’s safe, Nagito didn’t know with Hinata. And Makoto could see that was tormenting his friend, and pulling him apart.

Makoto feels selfish and dirty- taking for granted Byakuya’s safety and protection; throwing it back in his face. He knows that Nagito would have given _anything_ for a phone call from Hajime- just so he could have known if he was alive… And Makoto had that- he could have phoned Byakuya whenever he wanted from a payphone, but didn’t.

“If that’s how you feel, I won’t apologise anymore,” Byakuya said, and most people would have taken that as arrogance, but Makoto smiles and knows that he’s only trying to comfort him.

“Thank you,” Makoto said, and before he could think twice about it, he leans forwards and hugs him. Byakuya’s arms are hesitant as they go around Makoto’s middle, but he soon relaxes, and Makoto’s heart thumps hard in his chest when he feels Byakuya lean against him. He can almost feel the exhaustion on his husband.

“I am fond of your new hair by the way,” Byakuya said, and Makoto bursts out laughing, because it was said so painfully. He pulls back, giggling, and see’s Byakuya’s mouth is curved up into a small smile.

“We’ll get a barber to sort it out once everything has calmed down,” Makoto said, smiling, and has to stifle a laugh as Byakuya’s shoulders sag in relief.

“Thank god, because it is utterly dreadful,” he responded. “What on earth did you cut it with? A razor?” Makoto laughs again, realising how light he feels. Being here with his husband, burying the events of the previous days, makes him feel so much better. Now he doesn’t have this overhanging weight on his shoulders, and a dark cloud following him wherever he goes.

He smiles fondly, and places the longer strands of Byakuya’s hair behind his ears, before leaning in and kissing him tenderly.

“I love you,” Byakuya said, a rare occurrence. Makoto loses his smile and has an overwhelming surge of want: so he acts on it. He pulls Byakuya closer, by grabbing fistfuls of his blazer, and mashes their mouths together. Byakuya brings a hand up and cradles the back of Makoto’s head, which makes him wince. He forget about the injury on his head... “Have you hurt your head?” Byakuya asked, going to pull away.

Makoto leans forward and muttered, “Don’t worry about it” before continuing their kiss.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, making Makoto groan.

He launches himself out of his chair and lands on Byakuya’s chest, their legs tangled together. He bites Byakuya’s ear and whispered impatiently, “Sorry, but I’m trying to kiss you and you’re making that a difficult task.”

~

Fujisaki glances around the lounge. Pekoyama and Kuzuryuu left a while ago, so it’s just Kazuichi, himself and Mondo Owada… even though the guy apologised, and seems to be on good terms with Komaeda and Makoto Togami, he still makes him uneasy.

“If you have something to say, say it!” Owada yelled, making Fujisaki jump.

Kazuichi glares at him and stands from the couch. “You helped abduct Hajime, I’m not going to be acting nice to you, _am I_?” he shouted. Owada closes his mouth and adverts his gaze, something in his eyes makes Fujisaki feel for him… he looks regretful.

Kazuichi glares at him one more time, before moving across the room to the kitchen, leaving Fujisaki and Owada alone. He feels sweat break out on the back of his neck; how could Kazuichi just leave him like this? _Alone_ , in close proximity to the person whose life he tried to ruin three years ago.

“I won’t hurt you, y’know,” Owada mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Fujisaki’s cheeks blaze red and he feels ashamed for letting his thoughts show on his face. In fact, he feels ashamed for even thinking it… He helped Nagito get away… He basically sacrificed himself in hope that Nagito would get away and manage to rescue him and Makoto.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered timidly, trying to hide behind his large laptop- and succeeding. Sometimes he’s grateful for his height. This is one of those times…

But _no_. He decided that he wouldn’t run anymore.

With cheeks still glowing red, and heart still trembling in his ribcage, Fujisaki sits up straighter. He’s not quite brave enough to meet Owada’s eyes yet though…

“Thank you…” Owada muttered, and that does make Fujisaki look up.

“Huh?” he said, the heat slowly fading from his face. Owada scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks slowly turning red. It seems so out of place on someone like Owada and Fujisaki has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it.

“You’re a strong chic’,” he eventually said, and it makes Fujisaki squirm. There are two things wrong with that statement. Frist: He’s not a ‘chick’, but doesn’t even dream of pointing that out. Secondly: If anyone is strong here it’s Nagito. He braved everything, and everyone, who stood in his way in order to find Hinata. No obstacle was too big for Nagito- he crushed every single one of them. All Fujisaki did was lock himself way in his room and hack some files, and databases, to get the information that Nagito wanted.

“Nagito wouldn’t av’ found us if it weren’t for you,” Owada said, and it makes heat explode in, not only Fujisaki’s face, but heart as well- lighting him on fire from the core. “So… cheers for that.”

Fujisaki nods at his thanks, but doesn’t understand how that makes him ‘strong’.

~

Zipping his jeans back up, Nagito gets up from the bed and walks towards the first aid kit, that was knocked on the floor. He places some loose objects back inside and stands up.

“Have the painkillers kicked in?” Nagito asked, turning around and facing Hajime- who is perched on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” he answered, running a hand through his messed hair. “Although you distracted me from the pain.” He gives Nagito a smirk that makes heat flare his body, _again_.

“Stop teasing me,” Nagito complained, walking towards the bed and sitting down next to him. He doesn’t mind the teasing really, he’s just glad to have him back. To be able to touch him, to be able to talk to him, just to be able to _see_ him. Nagito turns and brings Hajime into a tight embrace; not too tight to hurt him though.

“This isn’t over yet Nagito…” Hajime muttered into his hair, which he flattens with soft strokes. Nagito knew that it was coming, but he’s not ready to face it all again. He’s just got Hajime back, he can’t lose him again. And it’s not just him anymore, he has Makoto too. Someone he cares about; he can’t have anything happen to his friend either.

But if he loses Hajime again… He’s not sure what he’ll do. He won’t be able to carry on, no matter how many speeches Makoto gives him about hope and staying strong.

“Hey,” Hajime whispered, pulling back and wiping at Nagito’s face. He’s crying? He hadn’t realised.

“I can’t lose you again,” Nagito said, getting closer and holding him more tightly; boring into his eyes with his. He wonders how desperate he looks. How afraid.

“You won’t.” Hajime hugs him again, breathing out deeply. Nagito closes his eyes, burying his face into the crook of Hajime’s neck; trying to hide from the world. Trying to take them away from this place, away from everything.

But he can’t. And for as long as he lives he will never allow anything to harm Hajime again. _Never_.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Nagito said, opening his eyes and looking fiercely over Hajime’s shoulder, as if the air itself poses a threat to his fiancé.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another happy chapter, because things kick off again soon.  
> I hope you're enjoying it thus far!  
> And thank you for all of your lovely comments, they make my day seeing them and make me want to write more! <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr you will know I've had problems with my laptop. That is why I have been so inactive. However, I am back and I apologise for not being able to bless you all with this fic xD

“I haven’t eaten in a while…” Nagito said quietly, not wanting Hajime to worry. His doting fiancé does frown, but knows him well enough not to fuss.

“I understand why you haven’t,” he murmured, stirring his instant noodles around in their pot. “But you should have. How can you function without eating?” He looks up, seeing how Nagito is close to tears, and smiles slightly; albeit worriedly. “How is that amazing brain of yours supposed to work if you don’t fuel it?” he said, smiling a bit wider and taking one of Nagito’s hands within his own. Nagito returns the smile and picks up the fork that’s resting in his own noodle pot.

“They’re ready now, aren’t they?” Nagito said, already placing a forkful into his mouth. He meets Hajime’s eyes and sees him grinning. Seeing that smile makes him perk up automatically. “What is it?” he asked, swallowing his noodles, feeling them warm him inside as they slide down his body.

“You have a noodle on your lip,” he laughed. Nagito flushes red, his cheeks burning, and releases Hajime’s hand in order to wipe it off. Letting out a huff, Nagito bites his lip. “Oh no. You’re biting your lip,” Hajime said teasingly. “Am I in trouble?”

“You don’t have to tease me all the time,” Nagito whined, and would never admit to pouting slightly. Hajime laughs again, hearing his laugh, Nagito brightens. It's like he’s been deprived of the sound for years, and joins in; because Hajime’s laugh is contagious.

~

“You are devouring that like you have not eaten in millennium's,” Byakuya said, and Makoto stops shovelling pasta into his mouth in order to look at his husband. Despite Byakuya’s words, Makoto can see how worried and tired he looks. Makoto really was unfair in the way he treated him… even if what Byakuya did in turn was also _unfair_. In his eyes, they are both as bad as each other.

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten in a while,” Makoto said, slowing the prodding of his fork against his food, not because he’s self-conscious of his eating, but because he can see the concern in Byakuya’s eyes.

“Neither have I.” That doesn’t surprise Makoto.

~

Everyone gathered in the Covert’s lounge. Hajime notices that the mess made by Monokuma has been cleared up; not one bullet shell in sight…

“Why are we still here?” Nagito asked loudly, breaking the silence in the room. He sends his glare to Togami, who has practically glued himself to Makoto.

“Nagito…” Hajime warned, sensing an argument about to break out. Hajime squeezes Nagito’s thigh. He really wants to pull and crush his body against his, warm his usually cold body, feel every angular point of his being- to just be able to touch him without his body aching in protest. But he can’t because of the damage his chest has sustained.

“No Hajime!” Nagito shouted, turning his eyes towards him. “We were attacked here! Monokuma knows where this place is, he’s been here-”

“He’s right,” Kuzuryuu said, his stormy face and even angrier eyes looking around the room, at every individual equally. “Why the fuck are we in the country at all?”

“I third that,” Owada commented, getting a few looks.

“Who the fuck are you?” Kuzuryuu said loudly, and Hajime tries not to laugh in amusement.

“Why _are_ we here?” Fujisaki said timidly, her voice hardly carrying around the room.

“Because we cannot leave,” Kirigiri said, and even though Hajime’s always seen her as the voice of reason, sometimes he wishes she wasn’t so blunt… Hajime see’s Nagito flex his knuckles, his bandaged up delicate hand; seeing it makes Hajime flex his, which is just painful.

“Monokuma wants to destroy us,” Togami said from his spot beside the couch Makoto is sitting at- he’s standing there, towering over everyone; Hajime’s never seen him more guarded than he is right now. “He will not stop until he has accomplished that. Until every single one of us is dead. He has already said as much.”

“So no matter where we go Monokuma will find us, and he will not stop until we are no longer a problem to him,” Kirigiri added, and he can feel Nagito’s building anger. Hajime places a hand to his back, rubbing at the tense muscles of his neck. Nagito sighs quietly and balls a hand into a tight fist before releasing it, it’s like he’s channelling his anger and then letting it flow out.

“We’re gonna die ain’t we…” Owada muttered, and even though it was quiet it sounded like a shout, a scream. “After everything… Maybe you shoulda’ killed me Komaeda, I think I’d rather of died by your hand than Monokuma’s.” Hajime shakes his head and the image of Nagito close to murder. He was willing to kill for him… Hajime knows he shouldn’t be thinking bad about that: because he’d do the same for Nagito. And that would just be hypocrisy.

“We’re not going to die,” Makoto said, and although Hajime’s only known him for a short while, he expected nothing less.

“Does your hope have an end?” Owada asked incredulously, which makes Makoto frown and Togami glare harder.

“It was too easy…” Nagito murmured, and the way he said it worries Hajime. “Monokuma let me get you out,” he said, looking at Hajime with anguish. “He’s coming, isn’t he?” Hajime takes his fragile hand that feels so strong, and squeezes it- not needing to answer his question.

“We have to get out of here,” Kazuichi said, standing from the couch opposite Hajime. Everyone remains seated, staring at nothing, their thoughts showing on their faces: _we can't._ “Why is no one moving?” he asked, looking around at the sombre faces.

“We can’t,” Makoto said sternly, airing everyone's thoughts. “We have to remain here and wait for him to come. Otherwise we’ll just be running with him behind us.” He stands, like he’s suddenly had an adrenaline rush. “We are stronger than him.”

“No we’re not!” Kuzuryuu shouted, standing from his seat, finally losing his temper. Togami steps forwards warningly, and Kuzuryuu clicks his tongue. “What would you know anyway? You’re not one of us.”

“Neither am I,” Nagito said quietly. “Yet here I am.” He looks up and meets Kuzuryuu’s eyes, so much ferocity and purpose burning in them it gives Hajime a rush of proudness. This is the person who risked his life to save Hajime. The person who gave him a purpose in life. Someone who, despite everything he’s been through, found a reason to carry on. The person Hajime loves more than _anything_ , who he would die a thousand times for in order to keep safe.

“Makoto’s right,” Hajime said. “We are stronger than him. Ogami, someone who works for Monokuma, came to my cell and treated my wounds. She gave me food and water.” Hajime stands, and Nagito looks up at him in wonder. “If we’re strong, I’m sure she’ll change sides.”

“Nekomaru, despite everything, told us where we could find our next lead,” Nagito said, and he slowly stands, pressing his arm against Hajime’s. Their fingers brush, and it sends an unexplainable feeling through him, like he’s just touched something he shouldn’t. He takes Nagito’s hand and intertwines their fingers- slotting perfectly together. “We’re strong. Just believe.” Nagito smiles slightly, and it lights something in Hajime’s heart that went out when he was taken from Nagito, and left somewhere no light could get in.

“Since when were you so hopeful?” Owada asked, and raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve always been hopeful,” Nagito replied. “I’d never of gotten this far had I not been.” Hajime knows he’s not just talking about right now. “Recently, it’s the only thing that’s been keeping me sane.” Hajime tightens his hold on Nagito’s hand, and Nagito squeezes his back; and it’s like he’s silently telling Hajime that it’s _okay_. And perhaps it is…

“Monokuma’s here,” Pekoyama announced, walking into the room, sword unsheathed. Hajime’s heart starts to beat wildly. For the past three years, it only ever beats this hard whenever Nagito does something like smile so beautifully it takes his breath away; or the obvious time: whenever he is one with Nagito. This is an entirely different feeling, this feels like his heart is going to kill him.

“I hope everyone’s believing and feeling strong,” Owada said, as everyone automatically clumps together as a group; an eccentric, mismatch group of people. But as Hajime glances around at them, seeing their determined, but still frightful faces, he decides he wouldn’t want to be standing with any others.

“Let’s try and get out of here,” Kazuichi said, and everyone complies. Hajime leans against Nagito and tries so hard not to limp, but there’s no denying how beaten his body is. Kazuichi comes to his other side and throws an arm around him. Nagito and Kazuichi share a look, and Hajime’s grateful that his friend is not running as fast as he can away from here. Hajime wouldn’t have been able to say he fully trusted Kazuichi three years ago… but he can now.

 

Downstairs, Pekoyama informs them that the exits have been blocked. Nagito takes a leisured breath and Hajime does his best to reassure him. But in his state, Hajime can’t do much of anything.

“We won’t go down without a fight,” Kuzuryuu said. “And I never thought I’d be the one to say something so fucking sappy, but you guys are like my family…” he turns bright red and looks down. “So, don’t die. Alright?” he asked aggressively, and Chihiro nods quickly, clearly scared of death for another reason now.

“As someone with a position of authority,” Kirigiri started, “I want to apologise for my inadequate approach to prevent this.” Hajime and Kirigiri have never really seen eye-to-eye… but in that moment he realises that everything she ever did was in order to keep him safe, and he regrets the way he spoke to her in the past.

“You are not to blame,” Pekoyama said, her eyes closed and arms folded across her chest, giving off the impression of someone wise.

A sinister laughter fills the hall in front of them, and Hajime’s breathing matches that of the rapid footsteps approaching. Nagito grabs and squeezes his hand, and Hajime grips his back- trying so desperately to reassure his fiancé.

And as Monokuma and his minions draw closer, armed with vicious smiles and weapons, Hajime glances at Nagito and realises that he doesn’t seem afraid at all… just angry.

Makoto comes to Nagito’s other side, dragging Togami with him, and gives Nagito a reassuring smile. He returns it slightly, and holds Hajime’s hand tighter.

“So you _can_ smile,” Makoto said quietly. Hajime doesn’t get to hear Nagito’s response, as Monokuma’s piercing laugh permeates around the room.

“It was so entertaining to watch your little reunion!” he crooned, smiling razor sharp at Nagito. Hajime feels a fire start burning at his core seeing him smile at him like that. “I would have intervened had you not arrived at a time I was not present…” Monokuma trailed off and looks thoughtful for a moment, and Hajime doesn’t know what to take from his expression.

“I am getting t-tired of this.” Everyone bristles at the voice that broke the silence. Monokuma slowly turns his head and meets the eyes of Fujisaki. She’s trembling, but despite that, Hajime has never seen her so strong.

“Out of everyone to break the silence…” Monokuma said. “Fujisaki, how brave of you. Is that testosterone kicking in?” Monokuma chuckles loudly. Hajime frowns in confusion and looks over to Fujisaki, seeing her close to tears. _Testosterone_ …

“Shut up…”

Monokuma’s face turns lethal. “Traitor.” Owada shrugs his shoulders, but doesn’t meet Monokuma’s eyes, betraying how afraid he really is.

“Enough of this,” Togami said sternly. “Talking is clearly not going to solve anything.” Hajime doesn’t like where this is going.

“You’re right,” Monokuma sighed, letting the blade of his dagger catch the light in the room. He trails a sharp, yellowed nail along the edge, and gestures to the people behind him to step forward. “’till the death?”

Hajime looks over wildly to Nagito, seeing him already looking his way, his expression worried, but eyes calculating. Hajime doesn’t think he can fight… not with the injuries his sustained. He can’t walk properly on his leg, and his ribs are aching and pulsating underneath his battered skin.

“What else?” Pekoyama said, raising her sword up. Kuzuryuu looks at her in concern, before rolling the sleeves of his blazer up, his face sombre. Kazuichi glances at Hajime for help, but he doesn’t know what to do to reassure his friend.

Owada cracks his knuckles and takes a step to the side, half blocking Fujisaki from sight; which is interesting…

Togami places a hand on Makoto’s shoulder and whispers something to him. Hajime looks away and focuses on Nagito. Hajime’s odds of living through this are slim… and Nagito knows this. His eyes are glossy and Hajime can’t find any words, so he leans forward and presses a fleeting kiss to his lips.

And as soon as he does, each side of the room charges at one another, leaving Nagito no time to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up, this time next week.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing as I haven't updated this in a while until now, I decided to add another chapter in today, like I usually would have had my laptop not broken :)
> 
> Warning: Violence. Slight Gore.

Hajime, his entire body burning with effort, hauls Nagito away from a flying knife. He makes a mental note who threw it and vows to gut them with it one day- if no one beats him to it.

The room they are in is large. Glass windows to their left, solid wall to their right. In the centre is a three piece sofa and an armchair, behind them is a bar- the alcohol bottles shaking in their places from the ruckus in the room. On the other side, opposite them, is a counter with stools around it.

Hajime pulls Nagito to the bar, and they climb over it quickly, landing crouched behind it. Hajime cups Nagito’s face, burying his hands in his hair.

“Nagito,” Hajime breathed, and his fiancé hears, despite the screaming and shouting in the room. “I’m probably going to die.” Nagito grabs Hajime’s wrists and squeezes them, his nails digging into his skin- but the pain is nothing compared to the pain on Nagito’s face.

His fiancé grits his teeth and bites out harshly, “You are _not_ going to die. Don’t, _don’t,_ say that again.” Nagito’s voice was wrath itself, and Hajime felt his words bury deep in his bones, pinning him to his place on the floor. Even though his eyes are streaming, and Nagito’s hands shake as he grips Hajime’s wrists, he looks furious, and determination shines through- almost blindingly so.

Hajime opens his mouth to speak, when someone lands on the bar. Their arm falls, hanging limply, blood trickling down their hand and onto the floor beside them. Nagito stares in horror at their face. Whoever it is has no eyes and their mouth has been slit at the sides, so it looks like their smiling. It reminds Hajime of a doll you’d see in horror films, with a stitched up mouth, in order to creep the audience out.

“Monokuma,” Nagito whispered. Hajime nods in agreement. It appears that he’s turned on his own team. And it looks like the animal has a signature. Something he does to his victims in order to send a message.

“Message received loud and clear,” Hajime muttered, and he knows Nagito didn’t hear, because at that moment someone screams so loud Hajime’s surprised the large windows didn’t shatter.

Peeping over the edge of the bar, Hajime and Nagito look for the source of the noise.

Fujisaki stands cornered, holding a bleeding arm, terrified. Hajime doesn’t see any weapon on her. A women, in a maid outfit approaches her, two daggers in her hands.

“Stay here,” Nagito whispered, quickly planting a firm kiss to Hajime’s lips, before launching himself over the bar counter. Hajime grapples for him, trying to grab his arm, but he’s too quick for Hajime’s painful delayed reaction.

“Nagito!” Hajime yelled, his voice cracking, feeling angry, helpless and purposeless all at once.

 

Nagito sprints towards Fujisaki, ducking and swiping past people. Someone swings a blooded knife in his direction, he’s quick enough to stop it from slitting his throat, but it catches a few locks of his hair. He watches in slow motion as his hair springs free and hangs in the air next to him; the knife inches from his face.

Distantly he hears Hajime scream his name again, and it brings him back. Everything around him comes back to focus, and he grabs his assailants wrist, snapping it back with lewd crunch, making them drop the dagger; which he swipes up and launches across the room. It buries into the back of someone’s leg, who was about to stab Pekoyama. Nagito turns back, not before seeing a nod of gratitude from the swordswoman, and locates Fujisaki. She’s being taunted by Tsmuki, that much is clear.

He dodges another knife, the blade barely scraping his face. The sting, as a small layer of his skin comes away from his cheek, doesn’t distract him. He bolts past Owada, the biker giving him a curt nod in Fujisaki’s direction, and then launches himself onto his knees, skidding below a sword fight. It was daring and he heard Hajime’s vocal chords shred as he did it; but it was quicker than going around them and risk being skewered.

His adrenaline is crushing his fears, and as he rises from the floor he wipes the perspiration from his forehead.

A couple of feet away, Fujisaki is getting dangerously close to being murdered, and Nagito needs to hurry. So he picks up the pace. From what he can see from the rest of the room, Makoto is nowhere in sight and Nagito’s worried he’s one of the many scarred bodies on the floor.

He shakes his head, grabbing a knife from someone’s belt and twisting it into someone’s bicep. They cry out and drop their weapon of choice. Kuzuryuu salutes him and hurries off, jumping into another battle.

Nagito picks up an axe from the floor and swings it around. Fujisaki spots him, and her pent up tears gush from her eyes in relief. Tsmuiki turns around, eyes mad and mouth curved into a wide, sinister smile. Nagito contemplates burying the axe into her head, but reminds himself that he’s not a killer. He hasn’t been one for three years. He won’t revert back to what he used to be. _Never_. Not after Hajime made him see that he’s worth more than that.

Instead, he drops the axe, and as Tsumiki tries to gut him, he grabs her wrist and squeezes until he feels her bone pop. She screeches, and drops her dagger but the smile never leaves her face. She swings her other armed hand, and Nagito grabs the blade with his left hand, picking the other dagger up with his left.

Tsmuiki yanks the blade from his hand, the end slicing the skin of his hand open. He curses, the pain searing up his arm, and swipes the blade at her arm. He pierces skin and she cries out, bringing her dagger down again. Nagito kicks it from her grasp and it clatters to the floor a little distance away.

Now unarmed, Tsmuiki stares at him, her face becoming red. Nagito doesn’t know what to take from the look. She looks over her shoulder and somehow her smile becomes worried.

Concerned, Nagito looks over his shoulder. And that was his mistake.

There was no one there. It was a ploy. A red herring.

He’s tackled to the ground, Tsmuiki on him now, pinning his arms above his head, her knees digging into his thighs. He bites his lip in pain, he can feel her bony kneecaps grating against his muscle and it _hurts_. She grabs the dagger that fell from his grasp and gently caresses his face with it. He squeezes his eyes closed as she grazes it below his right eye, his heart beating firm in his chest. And he mutters an apology to Hajime, as it gets to his neck.

But nothing happens. No pain. No blood.

He’s confused as to why he’s still breathing, how he’s not dead yet.

When he opens his eyes, Tsmuiki grins and places her hands around his neck. He grabs her wrists and squeezes them. His throat closes up and he chokes as the air enters his mouth but can’t get through. He kicks his legs out, ignoring how painful the action is against her knees. Tsmuiki's smirking face starts to blur from the water in his eyes. He claws at her skin with his nails, when black dots start to appear in his vision.

Hajime’s smiling face appears amongst the closing darkness, and his lips are moving. _I love you_. That’s what he’s saying. But Nagito’s slipping away and he can’t hear him. All the blood rushes to his head, making the rest of his body go stone cold. His chest heaves up and down, the pressure suffocating-

Things suddenly get brighter. The black dots disappear and he can breathe. His lungs gladly accept the air, maybe to gratefully, and he ends up choking. His eyes stream with tears and he feels all the blood rush from his face, back to the rest of his body.

When he opens his eyes he sees Makoto standing over him, and Tsmuiki falling to the side, tanned hands around her neck.

“Nagito! Nagito are you okay?” Makoto shouted over the noise, over the ringing in his ears. He nods, breathing heavily. He looks around, sees Fujisaki on her knees looking at him with wide glossy eyes.

Turning to his right, he sees Tsmuiki turning purple. Above her is Hajime. Nagito scrambles to a sitting position and grabs his arms.

He wheezes, trying to speak. Hajime’s knuckles are white, his face red and eyes burning. Nagito shakes him, and he gains his attention. Hajime’s eyes soften, but it’s soon replaced with that fiery fury.

“Hajime,” Nagito gets out, his voice strained. “Hajime stop. You’ll kill her,” he said weakly, digging his nails into his fiancé’s arms. “Stop it!” he shouted, even though his voice is hoarse. Hajime can’t revert back either. Not after everything. Not after awaking in the night screaming, Nagito walking him through breathing exercises. Not after Hajime’s relieved tears when he realises he’s not alone. He doesn’t have to do this alone.

Nagito grabs his face, making him look at him; and when their eyes lock, Hajime’s widen.

His hands release Tsmuiki’s neck and she rolls over choking.

“She- She,” Hajime stuttered, grabbing onto Nagito. “She was going to- _kill you_ ,” he screamed. Shaking and trembling. Nagito squeezes him and kisses the side of his head, muttering how he’s _alright_.

“Nagito!” Makoto yelled. Nagito and Hajime break apart and see a large women approach, her clothes soaked in blood. She looks like she could snap Nagito in half with her hands. He places a hand in front of Hajime, his left hand; the hand that’s dripping blood everywhere.

“Ogami,” Hajime said, gently holding Nagito’s wrist. The women –Ogami- stops in front of them and nothing on her face betrays what she’s thinking. Nagito struggles to stand, his legs feeling like jelly. He pierces her with a stare and steps in front of Hajime, who managed to get to his feet; staggering slightly.

Nagito and Ogami stare at each other. Nagito with a feral protection, like a wolf protecting his cub. Ogami closes her eyes and smiles slightly, Nagito’s not sure what it means.

After three painful seconds, Ogami holds her hand out. Nagito’s eyes widen. Nagito glances from her hand to her face, not fully believing what’s happening.

“This is wrong,” she said, her voice naturally husky.

Hajime shakes her hand, and she turns around, facing the crowd. Nagito notices Makoto smiling as Ogami dives back into the battle, injuring Monokuma’s minions- but not killing them. _Because_ we _are not killers._

“G-guys!” Fujisaki whimpered, gaining the trio’s attention. She gestures to the counter, the stools destroyed around it. Nagito nods, himself and Makoto helping Hajime over to their new shelter.

“Where have you been?” Nagito asked Makoto, as they set Hajime down onto the floor gently. He groans quietly, and seeing the pain he’s in hurts Nagito to the point of tears. He squeezes his eyes against them and takes Hajime’s hand tightly in his.

“Here,” Makoto answered, gesturing to the counter. “Byakuya told me to run for this spot. He said he’d come back- but I haven’t seen him,” Makoto added, his lip quivering. Nagito squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “I haven’t seen him in ages now.” Nagito would have said something, but he only saw Pekoyama, Kuzuryuu and Owada on his way to Fujisaki. No sign of Byakuya- or Kirigiri. _Perhaps they’re trying to find a way out of here_.

“He’ll be back... Togami’s smart,” Hajime said, giving Makoto a nod. Makoto smiles, but Nagito can see his friend was forcing it.

“Thank you.” Nagito looks over his shoulder, to where Fujisaki is sitting. She nods at him, her tears drying. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You helped me without hesitation,” Nagito responded. And even though they were different ways of rescue, if it wasn’t for her he’d never of found Hajime.

He turns back to his fiancé, and squeezes his hand again. Hajime pulls it towards his face and kisses his hand firmly, his eyes searching his face with desperation. Nagito feels his heart fly up to his throat, and his veins pump adrenaline around his body; and that same desperation grips at him. He surges forward, claiming Hajime’s lips with his own.

He feels Hajime exhale through his nose, the air cool against Nagito’s top lip. It sends shivers down his spine as they kiss roughly, desperation and passion grappling at them both. They’re kissing like it’s the last time they ever will.

“I love you,” Nagito breathed, finding his hands have wound up against Hajime’s face. Golden green eyes stare back at him, frightened and fierce at once.

“I love you,” Hajime said, and Nagito heard him this time.

“Wh-What is that?” Makoto asked, his voice strained. Nagito whips his head to the side, seeing a small black ball roll around on the floor. As it slows, Nagito’s eyes widen and his breathing becomes faster. Not a ball. _Not a ball._

“ _Grenade_!” Fujisaki screamed, scrambling to her feet. Makoto helps Nagito haul Hajime to his feet, and they sprint away from the counter. Nagito feels the slow-motion come back. His legs won’t move fast enough, and they all stumble away from their shelter.

Five painfully slow steps later, an excruciatingly loud explosion goes off behind them, and Nagito sees red reflecting in the broken glass on the floor. Bits of wood and shards of glass fall around them, and as the first piece lands, he throws his body forward. Hajime jumps with him and Makoto and Fujisaki thrust themselves away from the plume of fire and smoke.

They all hit the floor in unison, Hajime letting out a loud yell of pain as he lands on his chest. Nagito lets out a whimper as he watches, and his eyes sting from seeing him in so much pain- he wishes he could take it away, make him better. Makoto cradles his bandaged up wrist and Fujisaki covers her ears. Seeing her do that, Nagito notices he can’t hear anything in his right ear- just a loud ringing.

He looks across to Hajime, seeing drops of tears leek from his eyes. Nagito places an arm around his shoulders, and helps him into a sitting position; wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. The blood from his cut is drying now, and it crumbles against Hajime’s top as he pulls him up.

Makoto sits up, bewildered, and sticks a finger into his right ear, shaking his head. He must have the same problem Nagito’s having with his hearing.

Nagito’s about to ask if Hajime’s alright, when two blooded black boots appear in front of him. He looks up and stops breathing when he sees who it is.

Hajime grabs his wrist and tries to pulls him up, but Monokuma’s glowing red eyes stop him from doing anything. Even blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up on Wednesday.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore.

“Still alive?” he laughed, baring his teeth. Nagito and Hajime scramble to their feet, taking staggering steps back.

“Fuck off,” Hajime seethed, pulling Nagito behind himself protectively. Makoto comes to Nagito’s other side and pulls Fujisaki back.

“Such foul language,” Monokuma remarked, wiping the long blade of his machete against his soaked top. His top is _dripping_ crimson. That’s how many people he’s guttered and brutally scarred. Nagito pulls on Hajime’s arm and tries to pull him back- but his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

“ _Hajime_ ,” Nagito hissed, trying so desperately to get his fiancé to step down. But he won’t, and it’s infuriating him.

“You’re one lucky guy, Nagito,” Monokuma said, making Hajime growl and take a step forward. Nagito yanks him away, not caring whether it hurt or not. He’s not going to let Hajime get _killed_ because of him. “You turned up at a time I was occupied. Very lucky indeed.” Nagito breathes harshly, waiting for this creature’s next move. “But… you broke our little deal. And I don’t like it when people break one of my _rules_.” _Rules_? _What is he_ -

Nagito never got to finish his train of thought, as Monokuma lashes out. Swinging his machete, almost cutting a line down Nagito’s stomach and spilling his intestines out. However, Hajime saw it coming and shoved everyone, including Makoto and Fujisaki, away from his blade. The force knocked them to the floor, but Nagito managed to stay standing.

He whirls and checks Hajime over for injury, but there is no blood- so he missed the blade. Nagito’s lungs deflate with relief, and re-fill with fear just as quick as Monokuma lunges again.

Nagito pushes Hajime back with his forearm, sending him tripping backwards.

~

Byakuya riffles through some drawers, throwing files, that were once of the upmost importance, onto the floor. The shouting and screaming echoes down the corridor he escaped through. The repentance at leaving Makoto slowly chips away at his confidence, but it was too dangerous to get him through the crowd- Byakuya was not going to risk his husband’s security like that.

Just as he suspected, there were perpetrators in the corridor, ready to ambush anyone fleeing. It only assured him that he made the right decision to leave Makoto behind the counter.

“We could leave,” Kirigiri said, adjusting her glove on her right hand. Byakuya slams the top draw shut, and moves onto the second. “We won’t. But there is a clear path out.”

“I am not leaving Makoto,” Byakuya responded coolly. “We are also responsible for everyone in that room.” His hand touches something cold and hard. He draws it out, the light reflecting on the surface.

Kirigiri watches him, calculating. “We are not murderers.”

Byakuya processes her words, and thinks hard about that short statement. Everything they have done, everything his employees have done… Does that make him a murderer? He has never directly killed someone, but he has ordered people dead. Does that mean their blood is on his hands? Theoretically, yes, he is. Technically speaking, no he is not. As an individual he has never personally taken someone else’s life with his own hands.

But when he told Makoto… he looked at him with fear. Byakuya never asked, but does Makoto view him as a murderer?

“I believe we are.”

~

Hajime lands on the floor, his whole body on _fire_ with pain. He blinks against the stream of tears threatening to spill again, and watches as Nagito dives out of the way of another slash of Monokuma’s blade.

Painfully standing up, Hajime looks around for a weapon, any weapon- and spots Makoto. He has a dagger lying next to him. Tsmuiki’s dagger. Something snaps at Hajime’s core and he finds rage clouding his eyes at the memory of that-that _woman_. Her hands around Nagito’s neck, slowly killing him-

Monokuma laughs hysterically, and Hajime snaps his attention back to Nagito, and sees his right arm has been slit.

Finding it difficult to breathe through his fury, Hajime stalks to where Makoto is slowly getting up, and swipes the dagger from the floor. Makoto clutches his wrist and shakes his head violently.

“No! You’re injured!” he shouted, squeezing his wrist. Hajime grits his teeth, his jaw feeling like it’s going to snap he’s grounding them so hard. He’s about to yell at Makoto, wanting to unleash the murderer that’s been sleeping within him for three years, when Monokuma barks out a roar.

From there everything is slow. He sees Monokuma reach inside his blazer, and pull out a shiny weapon. He thrusts it in Hajime’s direction and he hears the first click.

“ _Hajime_!” Nagito screamed deafeningly loud, halting everything and everyone in the room. Hajime stares in wide eyed shock as Monokuma pulls the trigger and a sharp _bang_ goes off, the sound echoing and reverberating around the room; along with the shouts and gasps from the people witnessing the foul play.

He sees the small bullet flying toward him, unable to do anything to stop it- when Nagito’s back appears in front of him.

“Nagi-” Hajime’s voice catches in his throat as Nagito turns around. His eyes widen. Two, _beautiful_ , green-grey frightened, harrowing eyes lock with his.

“H-Hajime,” he gasped out. And when Hajime blinks, pain explodes in his chest and he collapses to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is short, but it's for a reason. The next chapter is up on Friday.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm busy tomorrow night, so I'm posting this now.  
> Warning: Slight gore. Character death.

“N… Na-… Nagito?” Hajime whispered, his voice like a scream in the silent room. Nagito falls to the floor, his knees a loud smash against the wood, red staining his top. Hajime’s heart cannot handle the sight before him. “Nagito?”

“This is not over,” Monokuma said. Hajime looks up, an animalistic growl erupting from his throat, and a feral urge to _kill_. And _kill_ _only_ , wraps itself around his raging heart.

“You- you!” Makoto flies at him, when another shot goes off.

Hajime blinks and looks Makoto over. But he’s not who the bullet buried in.

Monokuma laughs hysterically, the sound angering Hajime to the point of seeing stars-

Another shot goes off, and this time Monokuma doesn’t laugh.

Hajime watches as _two_ blood splotches begin to develop on Monokuma’s chest. He huffs another laugh, and blood trickles out of the side of his mouth, and Hajime knows it’s _wrong_ but he’s so glad- _no_ , ecstatic. _No_ , not even that begins to describe how _fucking incredible_ it is to see that sick, twisted bastard fall to his knees, _dying_.

Another shot, and Monokuma grunts slightly.

“This… is just-” he chokes on his own venomous blood. Spits it out and continued, “I was m-merely being… being controlled.” He swallows and clutches his chest, laughing slightly, like he knows something they don’t. “I was a toy… a pawn… I’m not…” wheeze- “I’m not the master… the mastermind.” He chuckles, madly so, and collapses to the floor. His dark blood covering the space around him.

“H… Haji-” Nagito gasped, falling onto his back, his hands resting over the growing splotch of blood on his top. Coming back to reality, Hajime looks at Nagito, and as he does a strangled, retched scream catches in his throat. He crawls over to his fiancé, and when he does Nagito meets his eyes, tears falling from the corners, down his temples and onto the floor.

“It’s okay… Everything is okay,” Hajime tried pathetically, putting his hands over Nagito’s wound. His eyes sting with tears and they flood from his eyes. “Someone… call an ambulance,” he said, putting pressure onto Nagito’s stomach. When no one makes a sound, Hajime snaps. He feels that fire burn him from the inside out, but its cold –freezing- and his hands are shaking, his body is trembling, blood is warming his hands and Nagito’s wheezing. His heart is painful in his broken chest, and it is so, so _quiet_ -

“ _SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE_ ,” he screeched, panic searing in his blood. “Nagito baby, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay- _I promise_. Just hang in there, stay with me,” Hajime said desperately, his tears burning as they make their way down his face. His lip is quivering and his throat has a giant lump in it. “Nagito… Nagito. Stay with me,” he whispered strained.

“I… I.” Nagito’s chest heaves up and down, his breathing ragged. “love-” Hajime lets a strangled sob leave his mouth, and he pulls Nagito’s weak body into his lap, placing their foreheads together. “I love y-you,” Nagito breathed, his breath warm against Hajime’s face. The words hurt. They stab at his gut, at his heart- shred his skin to pieces.

“Don’t leave me,” Hajime sobbed, his body shaking. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered loudly, hearing Nagito whimper, his uneven breathing moist against Hajime’s cheek. “I need you… I need you… Please don’t leave me! _You can’t leave me_!” Hajime screamed, snapping his head up. “ _Somebody do something_!” he shrieked, his whole body wracking with sobs, pure terror wrapping around his throat so tight he finds it hard to breathe.

“The ambulance said ten minutes maximum,” Makoto said, kneeling down beside him. Hajime sniffs, and stands up shaking. Holding Nagito close, he starts making his way out of the room.

Once he’s in the corridor, he runs. Sprints. Bolts down to the outside.

“Hold on baby,” Hajime muttered, hearing Nagito’s ragged breathing starting to hitch in his throat. “I promised I wouldn’t let anything hurt you… I promised that, remember?” he cried silently, his injured leg screaming in protest at the speed he’s running- his ribs pulsating angrily beneath his skin. “When you told me about your past I promised I wouldn’t let anything touch you ever again-” he takes a deep breath, releasing it with anguish and guilt, “I _failed_ you,” he wailed. “I’m so _sorry_ baby… I failed you… I couldn’t keep my promise… _I’m so sorry_ …” he howled, pain induced tears falling from his face, the grief agonising within his heart.

He walks out into the cold, and sits down onto the floor, cradling Nagito close. Nagito’s cloudy eyes blink sluggishly, his eyes never leaving his.

“Stay with me,” Hajime exhaled, his voice hardly carrying. He leans in close, monitoring Nagito’s breathing- feeling his weak, but resilient, breaths caresses his skin. “ _Stay with me_. Stay with me. We’re so close to our wedding… The day you’ve been planning every detail to,” Hajime said, his tears clogging his throat and making his voice sound rusty. He feels Nagito’s hand rest over his, his fingers gently pressing against his skin. It fills Hajime with a desire to rip the world apart. “Stay with me, please… If you go, I’ll have no purpose. You’re my life Nagito… _Please_ … _I need you_.” Nagito makes a low sound in his throat, at the same time Hajime hears sirens.

Hajime breathes out loudly, his chest deflating. “Hear that? Hang on Nagito. Help is coming.” As the last word leaves his mouth, Nagito’s eyes slide close and his breathing becomes increasingly weaker. Hajime stops breathing himself and shakes his fiancé slightly.

“Nagito,” Hajime said, feeling someone kneel down beside him. “Nagito!” Hajime repeated. Nagito’s eyes reopen to slits, but ultimately close and his soft breaths leave his body in one final exhale against Hajime’s cheek.

“No…” Hajime muttered, feeling Nagito’s hand go limp against his. “No… Nagito… No… NO… _DON’T LEAVE ME_!” Hajime buries his face against Nagito’s bruised neck, trembling. The only thing keeping him sane, is Nagito's pulse. Still there, but slow and so, so _weak_. “You can’t… I… I...” Hajime can’t find any words. Nothing. Nothing.

There’s a screeching noise, and Hajime looks up. Red and orange blind him, and people in blue and white uniforms rush towards him. Oxygen tank. Stretcher. Medical kit.

“Sir, let us get to him,” someone said in French, and Hajime gently lays Nagito down onto the pavement. As soon as he does, someone pulls him backwards and the people rush to Nagito. An oxygen mask goes over his nose and mouth, and white flannel-like fabrics are placed to his wound. Someone is giving him compressions, and Hajime internally pleads with them to bring him back. Bring his _beautiful_ , wonderful, _incredible_ Nagito back. _Please come back to me_ …

“Breathing is back, pulse still weak. Let's move him, now!” someone else said. Hajime chokes on a sob and reaches for his fiancé with a convulse quivering hand. “Sir, what’s his name?” a women asked. Hajime swallows the lump in his throat, and answers, not taking his eyes away from his angel.

“Nagito… Nagito Komaeda,” he croaked out, as he watches him be lifted onto the stretcher. Hajime numbly gets to his feet, with help from someone. “I want to go with him.”

“His condition is too critical. You will have to follow-”

“I’m going with him!” Hajime shouted, all his senses coming back to him. Another women turns around, as two other people put Nagito into the ambulance. _There’re taking him away from me_!

“If we don’t go now and get him into emergency theatre he’s going to die,” the other women said, and Hajime starts to panic, tears following the damp paths on his face. “We will do everything we can, but he has lost _a lot_ of blood.”

Hajime nods, when someone takes his elbow.

“I’ll drive,” Kazuichi said, hurling Hajime away from the ambulance by his arm. “He’s a fighter Hajime. He’ll be alright. He’ll get through this.” Hajime nods again, not knowing what else to do.

“Everything will be alright,” Makoto said, running next to Hajime. He hadn’t even realised he was running for Kazuichi’s car.

They clamber inside, and before their doors are shut properly, Kazuichi is speeding after the ambulance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on Thursday.


	21. Chapter 21

Bursting into the hospital, covered in blood and cuts and bruises, Hajime gains a lot of weird looks, and most people move out of his way- frightened.

“Nagito Komaeda- where is he?” Hajime asked desperately. The women at the front desk looks at her computer, glancing at Hajime, like he’s mad, a few times. “Hurry up!” Hajime snapped at her. He doesn’t think his heart can thump any quicker in his chest than it is now. His Nagito, his precious Nagito, is somewhere in this hospital, being cut open and- God knows what!

“Are you family?” the women finally asked, looking from him to the two people behind him.

“Yes, I’m his fiancé- where is he?”

“Theatre room three, west wing, floor two-” Hajime takes off running before she can even finish saying two. _I’m coming Nagito, please hold on. Come back to me. Stay with me. Please…_

 

Hajime clocks a doctor, and limps towards him, his adrenaline finally wearing out. Makoto and Kazuichi gently take his arms, like their afraid he’s going to lash out at them- and he doesn’t blame them.

“Nagito Komaeda?” Hajime choked out, his eyes just a constant stream of tears. The doctor nods once, and surveys his clipboard. Hajime knows that there is probably nothing even written on it. Doctors just carry them around to make them look like their doing something- either Nagito is breathing or his not. You don’t need to look at a clipboard for _that_ -

“He’s in theatre as we speak,” the doctor informed him. “They have given him an emergency blood transfusion. He’s very lucky, as his blood type is rare and we had quite a few people donate that type recently. It’s a miracle really- and you’ll never hear doctors say that-”

“Get to the point!” Hajime yelled, his arm getting a warning squeeze from Makoto. “Is he going to be alright?”

“It’s hard to say at this point in time,” the doctor said, feigning sombre. “He’s undergoing surgery to remove the bullet. And I have some unfortunate news for you.” Hajime fists his hands, and squeezes his eyes closed. He’s not sure he can hear what’s coming next. “The bullet went through his torso, and he lost a lot of blood because of that.” Hajime finds it hard to breathe once again. He’s poor Nagito… _This is all my fault_ … “Although, it didn’t pierce anything vital. Overall, he’s quite lucky.”

Hajime freezes.

 _Lucky_?

“You think he’s _lucky_?” Hajime’s voice is not quite with him when he said that. It’s like he’s looking in on the situation, unable to do anything- say anything. “My fiancé is in there, _dying_. And you think he’s _lucky_?”

“Sir, I merely mean his injury could have been a lot worse-”

“ _I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN_!” Hajime bellowed, and everything around him slows. He finds the room is spinning and his legs give way from beneath him. His eyes feel like they’re going around and around inside his sockets, making him feel ill. He tries to raise himself from the floor, but his head won’t move.

 _Nagito_ …

~

_“Stay with me… Stay with me… Hang on…”_

_The pain was excruciating… but now it’s gone. Now he’s just numb. He feels light, like the hard weight that was dumped on him has suddenly been lifted. And everything is so bright, so clear. The light is so welcoming, so warm…_

_“Please… I can’t lose you…”_

_That voice… It keeps calling for him. Every time he starts to slip away, he hears that voice… and something about it stops him from going…_

_But he’s not heard it in a while, and he wants to leave. Staying here only causes him heartache. It hurts to be here. Why is it so cold and cruel and hard here? That light… it’s the opposite._

_But that voice… It’s_ warmer _,_ clearer _. It makes him feel safe, and needed- it promises sanctuary._

 _It’s making him question leaving… but staying is hard. It’s painful and he can’t find the strength to hang on. He’s sorry, but he can’t do it. He feels so weak, he_ is _weak, and staying here, even now, is hard…_

“We’re losing him-”

_There are people trying to bring him back- trying to keep him here. But he doesn’t want to stay. He doesn’t want to! It hurts! Stop it!_

_“If you go, I’ll have no purpose. You’re my life…”_

_That voice again, where is it even coming from? Everything is so bright here, he can’t see anything._

_“I trust you Nagito.” Another voice. It’s different to the other one. “And I know you’ll find us.” This voice… it’s so sure. So… hopeful. It_ trusts _him to come back? To find them again? Who is this_ us _? There’s more than two?_

 _“_ SOMEBODY DO SOEMTHING _!”_

_He surges against the light, the voice giving him the strength to fight back._

_“_ DON’T LEAVE ME! _”_

_I won’t. I won’t leave you. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t. The voice is so desperate. It makes the pain bearable._

_That light looks so dim compared to the fire of that voice._

_“Please come back to me…”_

_He turns from the light. It no longer seems like the way out._

_“Please come back to me…”_

_I’m coming._

~

Makoto watches as Hinata awakes, instantly getting from his chair. Passing out like that frightened him, he didn’t know what to think. He knew Hinata had some serious injuries, but seeing him pass out had him worrying that they were fatal.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Makoto asked, already knowing what he’s going to do once he’s woken properly.

Hinata blinks hard, and slowly sits up on the bed, wincing. Makoto helps him up, setting him against the headboard. “How are you feeling?” he repeated, getting into Hinata’s line of vision. He’s had his leg and ribs treated and bandaged, and all his cuts cleansed and stitched. The doctor believes he went into shock and passed out… Makoto thinks that was for the best. Mainly because there has been no news from Nagito’s doctor… He’s still in surgery. The last update he got, which Makoto had to beg for because he’s not family, was that it wasn’t looking good.

“Where’s Nagito?” Hinata said, and everything Makoto planned to say, to reassure him, goes out the window. “Makoto- where is Nagito!” he cried loudly, lurching forward. Makoto curses how his face is like an open book and gently pushes Hinata back, to no avail. Even though he appears slim, Makoto’s seen him shirtless- he’s built like a Titan! Trying to push him back is like trying to turn a tank around.

“Hinata…” Makoto closes his mouth, not knowing what to say. He can’t lie to him. His fiancé is in theatre, and it’s not looking good for him… But… Makoto doesn’t believe this is the end… it _can’t_ be. “Hinata… Nagito is… Well he’s-”

“Alive!” Kazuichi shouted, bursting into the hospital room. “He’s alive! He pulled through! Komaeda’s OK!” he yelled, jumping up and down. Makoto lets out a breathy laugh and feels his eyes stinging. He knew it. He knew Nagito wouldn’t give up. Not after everything. Makoto looks to Hinata and sees the guy is sobbing, his hands against his eyes. He places a hand to his shoulder and squeezes it.

“I need to see him,” Hinata said, sniffling and wiping his face with his hands. “Where is he? I need to see him.” He gets up off of the bed, limping forward. Makoto holds his arm, getting a small nod from him.

 ~

After being told the news, Hajime could have crumbled to the floor in sheer relief. In unbelievable bliss. It felt like someone had trapped him in a room full of pressure, and then opened the door.

“He will be unconscious for a few days, as he lost a lot of blood, but other than that everything seems present and correct. We will monitor him, but I can’t see anything dire happening,” the doctor informed him, as he’s lead to Nagito’s room. Hajime could have kissed them for just telling him that.

“Thank you,” he said, and turns to Nagito’s hospital door. Through the glass, he can see Nagito laying there, oxygen mask on. Hajime slowly opens the door, and walks in. He can hear the beeping of the monitor, indicating that Nagito’s alive. That his fiancé is _alive_. Alive and breathing and… and that he’s going to be just fine.

Hajime approaches the bed, and looks at his lovers face. His cuts have been treated, leaving his lovely skin clean. Hajime sits down on the chair beside his bed, and gently takes Nagito’s hand.

He feels his chest rise up, and tears of relief flood from his eyes. He cries out loud. Bringing Nagito’s hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

“You have no idea…” Hajime started, his sobs drowning his voice out, he brings his other hand up and puts a lock of his soft white hair behind his ear. “You have no idea how terrified I was…” he sniffs loudly, his breathing levelling out. “I love you… I love you so much Nagito Komaeda. Words cannot express how much _I love you_ …”

Hajime wipes at his tears, and lets his lungs deflate in relief- all the tension leaving his body. Gazing at his husband-to-be, Hajime smiles a soft loving, small smile, his lips barely moving.

“I love you, your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is coming to its end, I hope you are enjoying it :-)  
> Next chapter will be up on Thursday the 1st.
> 
> Btw, I totally sobbed my eyes out while writing this chapter, and the next chapter especially, while listening to very sad music. One of those songs included 'My Heart Will Go On' from The Titanic. What can I say? I like torturing my soul with my OTP.


	22. Chapter 22

The past couple of days have been a blur. A blur of sleeping hunched in an arm chair, or resting against Nagito’s bed, back bent at an awkward angle- which hurts his chest after a while. The nurses always chide him when they find him in that position- they’ve given up trying to get him to sleep in a hospital bed. He is not leaving Nagito’s side. Makoto and Souda come during the day for a few hours, but they know Hajime wants to be left alone.

The room is quiet. The only thing that can be heard is a _bleep_ every now and then from Nagito’s monitor, and the exhale against his oxygen mask. The doctors said he doesn’t need it anymore, not now his body has strengthened, but it’s there as a precaution.

Hajime is sitting in the arm chair, his elbows resting against his knees. The only time he ever moves, is when a nurse insists on changing his bandages, and gives him his painkillers and anti-biotics. His eyes are closed, and every now and then he drifts off- what wakes him up is his face slipping from his hands.

The doctors said Nagito should wake up soon, and he wants to be awake himself when he does.

~

Surging out of the darkness, he blinks against the light. It’s not that bright, but bright compared to the darkness he was just sitting in. It wasn’t a horrible darkness, it was warm and secure. He could feel the presence of another person with him, and he knew he was safe with them.

He raises a hand to his face, staring up at the white ceiling. His fingers come into contact with something plastic, and he removes it from his mouth and nose. He lifts it over his head, his stomach hurting in the process.

Resting his head back on the pillow, he glances around. He’s in a white bed, a door opposite him, slightly ajar, and he can see it’s a bathroom. To his left is a table, overflowing with flowers- the sight makes him smile ever so slightly. Cards stand up along the windowsill, all saying something along the lines of ‘get well soon’.

He hears a rustling from his right and turns to face it. His small smile grows as he sees who’s sitting in the chair beside his bed. His face slipping from his hands: is Hajime. Nagito feels such a strong desire to jump from the bed and bring his fiancé into a tight embrace, but just _lying_ there is hurting his stomach.

Hajime’s face slips from his hands and he jolts awake, immediately looking at Nagito. His eyes widen and stands from his chair, grabbing one of Nagito’s hands, trembling.

“Nagito… Nagito, you’re awake,” he whispered out of breath, like he’s just sprinted. Nagito nods and curls his fingers around Hajime’s, who suddenly surges forward and hugs him, his other hand burying itself in Nagito’s hair. Hajime’s body is shaking and he can feel warm tears drop onto the skin of his neck. Nagito stops fighting against his tears, and lets them flood out.

“It’s alright,” he rasped, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He kisses the side of Hajime’s head and breathes out, weaving his hands in Hajime’s short hair. “It’s alright,” he reassured. It’s the only thing he can think to say. All this time, Hajime has been assuring him that things will be alright; it’s his turn to be held and comforted.

“I thought- I thought I’d lost you,” Hajime sobbed, his voice muffled. Nagito releases his tears silently, running his hand from his hair, down his back, and back up again. Hearing those words was like being gutted from the inside out. It hurt more than being shot. It hurt more than that bullet piercing his skin and burying itself in his flesh.

“I know… I know,” Nagito muttered, finally breaking into hysterics. “I _know_ ,” he cried, his body shaking as he sobs. Hajime collapses against the bed, his crying no longer oppressed. He howls, his tears creating a pond in the crook of Nagito’s neck.

Hajime pulls back, and holds Nagito’s face, wiping under his eyes. Nagito brings his hands up and caresses Hajime’s face, his skin dampening upon the contact.

They maintain eye contact, gazing for the longest of moments. Golden green, against grey green. Nagito feels his eyes well up, seeing Hajime’s so glossy.

“Is it over?” Nagito eventually asked, his voice barely a whisper. He needs to know. He needs to know that nothing can hurt Hajime again.

“It is for us,” Hajime said, and presses their foreheads together. Nagito leans forward slightly and grazes their lips together once. “I’m sorry…” he muttered. Nagito leans forward, putting more pressure against their foreheads.

“Don’t,” Nagito said lowly, his heart coiling itself into a tight ball. “Don’t. This is _not_ your fault. Monokuma was going to shoot you. I took the bullet for you. It was _my_ decision.” Nagito trails a hand to the back of Hajime’s neck and slides their noses together, trying to take them away from this place. To make everything right again. “ _We_ came here to protect each other. _We_ made the decision to help. If we didn’t we’d probably be hunted and killed. None of this is your fault. If you apologise again I’ll kick you out of my room.” Hajime laughs slightly, his breath warm and minty against Nagito’s face. Seeing his smile, Nagito gains one of his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, turning his head and bringing their mouths together. Nagito moves his lips against his, balling his hand into a fist in Hajime’s hair, warmth flooding his heart and searing through his body. Hajime’s tongue dances across his, and flicks the roof of his mouth teasingly, making Nagito smile.

“I love you,” Nagito muttered, gently placing a kiss to the side of his mouth. Hajime closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, keeping his hands against Nagito’s face.

“Those were the last words you said to me… before you… before you went unconscious,” he said, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“I needed you to know,” Nagito whispered, and swallows hard, trying to stop himself from crying again. “I didn’t want to die, without telling you at least one more time.” Hajime pulls back slightly, their foreheads disconnecting. He holds Nagito’s stare, his eyes fierce and face serious. It stops the world from spinning. Suddenly, Nagito is aware of gravity- and thankful for it.

“I already know. What you did for me… I know.” A muscle jumps in Hajime’s jaw, and Nagito knows he’s refraining from apologising for putting him in that danger.

“And I’d do it again,” Nagito said sternly. “All of it.” Referring, to not only what has happened recently, but to what brought them together in the first place.

“So would I,” Hajime said, before holding Nagito close again. “All of it.”

~

Makoto hesitates outside. Hinata and Nagito are having a moment, something he doesn’t want to intrude on. He’s already sent a doctor away, telling them to come back in a few minutes.

“Makoto.” He turns when his name is spoken. Standing a little away is Byakuya. There is still so much to talk about… Makoto doesn’t know where to begin.

He approaches Byakuya, doing his best to smile. “Nagito’s awake,” he said, his smile turning less forced, thinking about his friend. It slowly fades when he thinks back to what happened. He looks to Byakuya, his face going serious. “I don’t think they know.” Byakuya adjusts his glasses, and breaks eye contact. “Nagito saw, but he probably doesn’t remember. And Hinata didn’t look around.”

“I’m sorry Makoto-”

“Don’t apologise,” Makoto said, looking to the floor. “He would have shot Hinata… and me. You did the right thing.” He looks back up, meeting Byakuya’s startled eyes. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the change, but Makoto has. Because this is his husband… The love of his life…

He grabs Byakuya’s arm, like he’s afraid he’ll leave. Byakuya closes a hand around Makoto’s wrist on instinct, but he instantly relaxes. Makoto has often wondered why Byakuya did that. Jump and flinch when someone, including him, did something he wasn’t expecting… Now he knows why.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Makoto said. “And I want to know everything… But there is so much about you I don’t know. You’re a stranger to me at the moment Byakuya,” he added, and the pain in his blue eyes is enough to make Makoto feel like he’s had a blow landed against his kidneys. “But… I still love you. It’s still _you_. It’s always _been_ you, and it took me a while, but…” Makoto trailed off, looking over into Nagito’s room. Hinata has joined him on the bed, their hands interlocked and they’re laughing about something… Despite _everything_ … they’re laughing… “I realised that it always will _be_ you. I don’t want it any other way,” he finished, sliding their hands together.

If Nagito and Hinata can get over everything they’ve been through: lying to each other, telling each other everything about their pasts, and accepting it no matter how awful… Then so can Makoto and Byakuya. And after seeing Nagito lose Hinata, and how it almost tore him apart, Makoto knows he couldn’t go through that himself.

“Are you sure this is what you want,” Byakuya asked, giving Makoto’s hand a small squeeze. “I would understand if you decided to leave.” Byakuya’s jaw clenches, and Makoto knows he means what he says. He will understand, but what he doesn’t say is that it would kill him. Makoto’s thankful for that, because it allows him to make his own choice. Which he’s already made anyway.

“Did you not listen to what I just said?” Makoto said, dropping their hands and hugging Byakuya, resting his head against his chest- hearing Byakuya’s heart pound loudly and hard. “It will only ever be you…” he whispered, squeezing him tightly. Byakuya’s arms encircle him and for the first time in days, he feels safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up on Thursday the 8th.
> 
> I hope you are liking this still :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  Sorry guys

“How do I look?” Hajime frantically asked Souda, flattening his blazer again. “How do I look?”

“You look fine- amazing!” Souda added, seeing Hajime’s face twist in abhorrent disgust at the word ‘fine’.

“’Amazing’ is not good enough, considering Nagito is going to look-”

 

“-incredible!” Nagito exclaimed, anxiously wiping his sweaty palms against his black trousers. “Hajime always looks incredible. I can’t show him up on his wedding day-”

“Nagito, calm down,” Makoto soothed calmly. Those words go straight over Nagito’s head. How can he be ‘calm’? He’s getting married in less than ten minutes to Hajime. That statement alone should explain exactly why he’s nervous. “Hajime would not care if you turned up in a bin-bag. He loves you, and views you so highly.” Makoto places his hands on Nagito’s shoulders and smiles warmly at him. It manages to slow his heart a bit- just a bit, because Makoto’s right…

“Which is exactly why I need everything to be-”

 

“-perfect!” Hajime shouted, ringing his hands through his hair again. Which he decided the second time he did it: that his hair is already a mess so he can’t do further damage. “What am I going to do if Nagito thinks I look ugly? He won’t marry me!”

“Okay. You need to calm the fuck down,” a voice from behind drawled. Hajime turns and sees Kuzuryuu looking at him like he’s wearing his clothes back to front. Oh no… I look stupid! “Nagito would still marry you even if you looked like Souda.”

“Exac- Hey!” Souda yelled in defiance. Hajime would have commented in any other situation, but this was his wedding day, and his friends were not being supportive at all.

“Hajime, you and Nagito belong to each other. After everything that has happened, you deserve to be happy,” he added. Hajime feels his chest swell at Souda’s words, the past month floating through his mind. Nagito’s recovery was speedy and the doctors could not have been more pleased. As soon as they could, they got on a plane and flew home… And now he’s standing on a beach in Hawaii, the sun out, blue sky, the heat humid but not warm enough that he’s sweating in his suit, waiting to marry the most beautiful person that has ever walked into his life- and everything will be perfect.

For a blissful second, Hajime relaxed.

And then he remembers how he has to read his handwritten vows- and he goes flying back into panic mode.

 

The vows… He had to write his own vows… And now, as he looks over the piece of paper crumpled in his shaking hand, he realises how bad they are. How is anyone supposed to write a heartfelt speech down? When he was writing it, it felt like the words were flowing from his heart… but now he realises they are just words. Boring, generic, samey words. How on earth is he-

“Nagito, it’s time to-”

 

“-go in, are you ready?” Souda asked, holding his arm out. Hajime had asked his friend to give him a way… As he didn’t feel as though anyone else could. For a long time, Souda was the only person he could easily say was a friend… And after everything that has happened, he can easily say that he’s like family.

Taking a deep breath, and letting his worries flow out within an exhale, Hajime turns and takes Souda’s arm with a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. For everything,” Hajime said sincerely, and he means the words. Hajime had never noticed before, but Souda has always been there for him. He was so blinded by how cruel the world could be, that he couldn’t see that that’s not always true. The world is not cruel, and not everyone is out to get him. Ever since embracing that, he realised he had more family than he originally thought.

“Don’t be a sap,” Souda said, his voice going into that embarrassed whine Hajime has become attuned to. Hajime and Souda walk towards the start of the wooden boards they are to walk from. “Thank you,” a small mumble found its way to Hajime’s ears, the same time Makoto leads his fiancé to the beach, and when Hajime’s eyes meet Nagito, he’s greeted with the most exquisite sight he has ever seen.

Nagito’s face is flushed a pink, which probably matches Hajime’s. He’s in black trousers that do an amazing job for his figure and a white blazer that reflects in the Hawaiian sun. His shirt is white and he has an adorable black bowtie. As he approaches with Makoto, he sees that his white fluffy, untameable hair, has been braided into a small plait. Hajime’s stomach does a nervous, but pleasant, dance at the sight, and he can feel his breathing becoming difficult, like it did when he first laid his eyes on him that time in the café.

Nagito gives Hajime a smile, and that’s when Hajime realises that he’s been doing the same.

Souda has to nudge him to get him to move, and when he does his legs feel foreign.

A gentle warm breeze caresses his skin, and with each step towards Nagito the breeze carries his scent towards him.

Hajime struggles for words as he stands in front of his husband-to-be. He’s as mesmerised as he was when he first met him.

Nagito smiles and reaches towards Hajime, his hands taking his tie. Nagito sorts it out, extending the top and making it longer, the tie resting neatly against his shirt. Hajime smiles, his shoulders relaxing when Nagito slides his hands down to his chest.

“You’re perfect,” Hajime said, his voice soft to his own ears. Nagito’s eyes well up as Hajime cups his face and gives him a short tender kiss. He savours the sense of Nagito’s soft, parted lips against his own, his cool breath against his top lip, and the vibration of a soft murmur travelling down his spine. Ignoring the voice in his head that reminds him how he almost lost him.

“Ready?” Hajime whispered when they part from their brief kiss.

“Yes,” Nagito replied, taking one of Hajime’s hands. They have come so far, Nagito would never have done anything like that three years ago.

“I love your hair like that,” Hajime muttered as they walk towards the arc of flowers. Behind, the sea waves gently kiss the golden sand, and the sun shines for them. Some light for the darkness they’ve just been in.

“Sonia did it for me,” Nagito replied, giving his friend a smile. The blonde woman smiles back, Souda claiming the seat next to her.

“You look beautiful,” Hajime said, as they reach the arc of pink and white roses.

“You have both written your own vows,” Togami said, a statement not a question. Hajime nods in response, giving their marriage officiant a nod; of course Togami is Ordained. “Then, Komaeda, you may go first.”

“Uh… Okay…” Nagito said, clearing his throat and adverting his gaze. Hajime gives his hands a gentle squeeze, in reassurance and confidence.  
Hajime catches Nagito’s gaze, and a fierce unyielding Nagito stares back.

“I had written down what I was going to say… but-” Nagito bites his lip and looks to the people watching. Hajime sees Makoto give him an encouraging nod, which makes Hajime smile. “I never saw the world as something to enjoy, as you know… But after meeting you, Hajime, I understand what it means to see the world in colour.”  
Hajime’s heart inflates in his chest at the words, and his eyes start to sting with tears- he’s not sure he can get through this marriage without crying from utter love and joy.

“I was in pieces when you found me,” Nagito continued, seizing Hajime’s eyes and refusing to let go. “And after a while you started to slowly put me back together. I don’t know how you did it. You are so patient and so kind and I love you so much. As a writer you would have thought I could explain how much you mean to me, but I can’t. Stories, I can do. But when it comes to you… I can’t even write it down,” Nagito laughs slightly, pearls of tears rolling down his face.  
“I was barely standing when you found me, being kicked down so many times will do that to a person… But you held me up. Gave me a reason to hold myself up and I can never thank you enough for loving someone like me. Even now, you frown when I single myself out,” Nagito said, smiling through his tears. Hajime hadn’t noticed he frowned at Nagito’s undermining comment about himself.

“I would not change anything that happened. Nothing at all. I never thought I’d say it, but I’m glad I was assigned to kill you,” he said, making Hajime and all their friends laugh. “You are my inspiration, my saviour. And I love you…”

Hajime takes a wheezing breath and places a loose lock of hair behind Nagito’s ear.

“I’ve found my next story,” Nagito whispered, catching Hajime’s hand and kissing his palm. The sensation sends warmth flooding through his veins, and an urge to tuck Nagito against himself and never let go overwhelms him.

“Hajime,” Togami said. Hajime nods. After hearing Nagito’s vows, and seeing him standing there, pour his heart out… He’s not afraid anymore. How can he be after everything?

His vows weigh heavily in his pocket, but they seem like pointless words that would not do their story justice.

“Nagito, you believe it was me who saved you,” Hajime said, a fond, settled, smile finding its way onto his mouth. “But, really, it was you who saved me… I was numb to the world. The only thing that gave me any feeling was the assignments I was given… I didn’t think anyone could ever accept me because of that… But you did. Even now, as I show my ugliness again, you don’t seem disgusted or afraid… You don’t even flinch.” Hajime stops, remembering the other people seated on the beach.

He feels Nagito squeeze his hands in reassurance. “But I met you and I suddenly began to feel things that I’d never felt before… I didn’t know what to make of it all… But once I’d realised that it was love, I made a vow that I would protect you. That no matter what, I would save you and keep you from harm.” Hajime’s voice becomes thick with tears, and its only Nagito’s understanding smile that gives him the strength to go on.

“But you still got hurt, and when you did I didn’t know what to do. All I knew was that I needed you with me. I need you.” Hajime’s eyes flood tears, and he has to hold Nagito’s forearms to keep him from collapsing.

“I didn’t realise how much I needed you until that moment where I thought I’d lose you. I don’t think anyone knows how much you truly love and need someone until there’s a risk that they can be taken from you… I wasn’t prepared to lose you then, and I’m not now. I will never be.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Hajime said, his eyes clearing up and focusing on the angel in front of him. “You are the world. You’re the colour and the sound and the purpose. Without you, I’m numb and… lost.” Hajime and Nagito both reach for each other in unison, embracing tightly. “I love you,” Hajime whispered against Nagito’s ear.

“I love you too,” Nagito said, his voice trembling.

***

“Morning,” Hajime said, lazily stroking Nagito’s naked back.

Nagito smiles half-dazed, and reaches for Hajime’s other hand- kissing his knuckles gently.

“And Happy birthday,” Hajime added, removing his hand from Nagito’s back and picking up an envelope.

“I told you...” Nagito sighed, sitting up and taking the envelope, but he can’t help but smile.

“Of course I’m going to ignore your insistent pleas to not getting you anything for your birthday,” Hajime said, amusement evident in his voice.

Nagito sticks his tongue out and slides out the paper inside- the surface glossed. He frowns, turning it over.

His eyes widen, and he feels butterflies taking flight in his stomach. “You- but…”

“I have one as well,” Hajime said, holding up his own plane ticket.

Nagito, completely speechless, stares at his fiancé-turned-husband with wet eyes.

“We’re going to see the world, Nagito,” he said, almost singing the words.

Excitement and happiness and love bubble up inside, and the only thing Nagito can do is throw his arms around Hajime and cry hysterically onto his shoulder.  
“You’re unbelievable!” he exclaimed, pulling back and pecking Hajime’s mouth multiple times- so crazily overwhelmed he feels like he could leap from his own skin at any moment.

“I love you too,” Hajime laughed as Nagito crushes him in a hug, yet again.

“Well, come on then! Let’s go!” Nagito practically jumps out of bed, ignoring his nakedness and running into the bathroom- hearing Hajime laugh and follow after him.

***

Makoto’s phone chimes in his pocket. It's Nagito, screaming from his message in all caps about travelling the world. Makoto smiles and replies to his best friend, asking him to send postcards.

It’s about twelve, so Makoto has had an early lunch, late breakfast. He only got back to his villa at 4 in the morning, being one of the last people to leave Nagito and Hajime’s after party. The couple left just before himself, trying to sneak out discreetly- but Makoto saw them wrapped around each other like vines and looking over their shoulders for anyone who might’ve seen them; but Makoto could tell they didn’t really care if anyone did.

As for Makoto, he left the party in an unnatural silence with Byakuya.

Things have been… difficult, to say the least. There has been so much that Makoto has wanted to talk about, and so far they haven’t even touched on half of it.  
But after seeing Nagito and Hajime wed, and become Mr and Mr Komaeda-Hinata, it brought back memories of his own wedding day…

It’s still Byakuya, that’s what Makoto keeps reminding himself. The same Byakuya he spoke to about having a family with. The same person that acted nice when he met Makoto’s family. Well, as nice that can be expected from him.

Byakuya was a horrible, cold person when Makoto met him. Makoto’s not sure what had drawn him towards him, but something did. And something had drawn Byakuya to Makoto, because he didn’t categorise him with everyone else.

Makoto tried to bring down Byakuya’s steel walls, desperate to let him see the real Byakuya Togami. But, instead, Byakuya let him inside the walls, and Makoto felt safe and secure. He never thought he needed that comfort- he was always so sure of himself… But Byakuya saw he wasn’t, and gave him what he wanted and what he needed. Byakuya and comfort.

But now, looking back, Makoto has realised that what he wanted and needed were the same thing.

“Makoto,” Byakuya said, as a way of greeting as he entered the room Makoto is in. It’s a bright room, brown wooden floors, white couches and curtains, which blow in the afternoon breeze.

Makoto looks up from his crossed legs and smiles. He’s sitting on one of the sofas, facing towards the open balcony.

“Morning,” Makoto greeted, and Byakuya seems to become less stiff. “I was just thinking about you,” he said, standing and heading towards him, scratching the back of his head, and still being surprised to find hardly any hair there.

Byakuya doesn’t say anything, but wonder speaks volumes in his eyes.

“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Makoto said, taking one of Byakuya’s hands, not commenting on how it’s trembling. “But I meant what I said in the hospital that day… I love you unconditionally, Byakuya. I always have.”

He looks up and meets the blue of his eyes, and realises it’s not wonder swirling there- but longing.

“I want to put what’s happened, behind us,” Makoto said, squeezing Byakuya’s hand. “I’m not prepared to lose you, and what we’ve built together. I understand why you didn’t tell me, and I forgive you for it… After what I’ve seen, I understand… truly.”

“Makoto…” Byakuya murmured, his whole demeanour softening, something no one other than Makoto will ever be allowed to witness. “I would understand if you could not continue with me-”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Makoto sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. “Did you listen to what I just said?”

“Yes, but, I would not blame you for leaving me, if-”

“We are not having this conversation again,” Makoto demanded. “I swear, everything I say goes in one ear and straight out the other.”

“Makoto, I hear you, I do. But-”

“Clearly not!” Makoto shouted, his irritation levels rising. “If you did you would not end that sentence with a ‘but’!”

“Would you stop interrupting me?” Byakuya bellowed back. Makoto is too mad to react to him, this is probably the first time in a while that Byakuya has shouted back at him.

“I wouldn’t have to if you just stopped saying stupid things!”

“I’m trying to be reasonable!”

“I LOVE YOU!” Makoto screamed. “And I am not letting this ruin us! Is that ‘reasonable’ enough for you?” Makoto yelled, standing on his toes, before whirling around and planning to stomp away- but Byakuya pulls him back, up against his firm chest.

Makoto wastes no time grabbing his face and mashing their mouths together. Desperation surges and he’s clinging to Byakuya, pressed flushed up against his lean body.

Byakuya’s hands roam underneath Makoto’s top, satisfying him in ways he hasn’t been in over a month.

“Wait-” Makoto said, breaking contact with Byakuya’s mouth. “Promise me you won’t argue with me anymore. Please,” Makoto muttered, his thumbs gently stroking his jaw line.

Byakuya rests his forehead against Makoto’s and rests a hand against his cheek, running a thumb along his Makoto’s parted lips.

“I promise,” Byakuya said, and Makoto knew he meant it, because his eyes didn’t waver once. “And I love you too,” he whispered, tenderly kissing the side of his mouth.  
Makoto decided then and there that everything was going to be fine…

And if it wasn’t, he was going to bloody well make sure it would.

***

Two years into the future…

There are many stories in a person’s life. There is their story, the story they experience with loved ones, their loved ones story and their enemies. And all of them you learn about as an observer. You’re the observer. Thank you for reading the stories.

Hajime closes his book gently, and thoughtfully stares at the blurb, Nagito’s name staring at him from underneath it.

“Did you like it?” Nagito asked, hesitantly, peering up at him from where he’s lying across Hajime’s lap.

“I loved it,” Hajime said, placing the book down next to him and thumbing Nagito’s cheek. “Although, you portrayed me too heroic,” he added, smiling down at him.

“Actually, I think you’ll find I told our story exactly as it happened,” Nagito said pointedly.

“Oh really?” Hajime murmured, lowering his face towards his husband’s, grinning.

“Really,” Nagito responded, laughing, as Hajime kisses his face. “Thanks for reading.” He smiles up at him, mesmerised. Hajime caresses his face, and kisses his mouth tenderly, wondering how he ended up with an incredible life, after everything.

“Thank you for being in my story.”

Nagito sits up, wearing a matching smile and straddles Hajime’s lap. “We share the same story.”

Hajime closes his eyes and embraces Nagito, softly running his fingers through his hair.

How right Nagito is, and always is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't apologise enough for dropping off the face of the earth.  
> Truth be told, I read through my works and absolutely hated every single word I had written. On top of everything else that has been taking place in my life, I was feeling very low and out of place.  
> My outlook put me in a real rut. I've continued writing, I've been writing so much- desperate to fix how awful it is.  
> I've also started writing my novel, which I've been (regrettably) putting off.  
> You guys are always so supportive of my work, and I am so grateful. Words cannot express it. I love you guys more than KomaHina.  
> But my writing is not at a standard I want it to be at. I wrote this a long time ago, and finished it a few weeks ago. I'm not satisfied with the ending, not really. But I wanted to finish it. It's a work I am most pleased with, so I needed it to be done.  
> Thank you for reading my writing, commenting on it, leaving Kudo's- all of it. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, you're the reason I continued to write. You're the people that gave me the courage and motivation to write my own work, so I thank you for that as well.  
> I hope you enjoyed this journey, I certainly enjoyed writing it- even if now I don't quite like the way it turned out.  
> Thanks for reading, and thanks for the support.  
> XOXOX


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